My Ferret and I
by Smenzer
Summary: Draco 'ruins' Hermione's reputation by seeing her in her underclothing while a ferret and is forced to marry her. Modern day Regency romance. DMHG
1. Chapter 1

My Ferret and I

Author: Smenzer

Rating: PG

Pairing: Draco/Hermoine

Teaser: Draco gets turned into a ferret and Hermoine takes him home not knowing the truth..

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to Rowling. This is just for fun.

Author's note: I'm not sure if anyone has ever done this before or not, but I had this idea for a while. Not sure if it'll be humor or angst or , but here it is.

Hermoine Granger rested in the empty train compartment of the Hogwarts Express, her chocolate brown eyes gazing sadly out the window. Another long year at Hogwarts had just ended and they were on the way home. In a few short hours she and her good friends would part again for the too-long summer. She supposed she'd see Ron soon enough, as most summers she visited the Burrow and Harry would no doubt come over as well once he had spent enough time at the awful Dursleys. But there was one person she wouldn't see until next September. A loud sigh escaped from her lips as she thought of his soft cornsilk hair that hung into his amazing silver eyes.

Yes, she, Hermoine Granger, the Know-It-All of Gryffindor had fallen in love with none other than Draco Malfoy.

Not that she would admit it to anyone. No, it was clear people wouldn't understand. The Gryffindors loathed the Slytherins for no other reason than they were Slytherins. And her two best friends, Harry and Ron, especially hated them. Draco was their rival and they seemed to enjoy making his life miserable. They hexed him and shot curses whenever the teachers weren't watching, saying it was fair for all the insults that came out of his mouth. And Harry, Harry enjoyed using his fists. It was a nasty habit he had picked up from his cousin Dudley and she wished he'd realize what he was doing was wrong. But he didn't. He seemed to think in some twisted way that a beating was equal to insults when it just wasn't. And Draco, thin and tall, didn't stand a chance. He didn't know the first thing about fighting with one's fists and Harry seemed to strike when the Pureblood was laughing at some childish remark. But seeing Draco lying on the ground, red blood streaking his platinum hair and bruises forming on his fair skin was no laughing matter. If things didn't stop, Harry just might kill him one of these days by sheer accident. And so she had started sticking up for Draco a bit, telling them that it was wrong and that Draco wasn't really learning anything from the beatings. They were just becoming worst enemies. And so it had been quite a shock when Ron looked at her weirdly and had admitted they simply enjoyed tormenting the Slytherin. That had shaken her to her core. How could Ron say such a thing and yet say that Draco was the evil one?

And somewhere along the line she had fallen in love with him.

Realizing she had sighed out loud, her eyes darted quickly to the closed compartment door. Harry and Ron had gone off together to the bathroom down at the end of the train and she expected them back soon. The last thing she wanted was for them to catch her sighing like some dumb love-struck teenage girl, even if that's what she was. That might lead to awkward questions, questions she didn't want to answer. Still, they were both thick enough that they hadn't noticed her fascination with a certain Slytherin. She'd kept it hidden very well. The thing is, Hermoine didn't know what to do about the odd situation so she did nothing.

/Still, it would be nice if I had a photograph of him…/

Hermoine had spent the last two months of school raking her brain on how she could do exactly that and had utterly failed. She had tons of pictures of Ron, Harry and the other Gryffindors but not one of the dreamy, silver-eyed Slytherin. Nor could she just go up to him and take one. That would lead to too many awkward questions. The same reasons prevented her from asking Colin to get her one. She glumly sunk lower in the cushioned seat as she realized she'd now have to face three long months without even a photo. The time seemed to stretch out before her like eternity and she was sure it'll never end, just keep dragging on day after day.

Although Hermoine didn't want to admit it, inside she was just like other girls. She wanted to have a handsome boyfriend someday and for some odd reason her heart had picked Malfoy. She knew it was incredibly stupid. There was zero chance of sparks flying between them. He hated her and her dirty blood, yet Hermoine couldn't accept that as the absolute truth. Never once had he really tried to harm her. He was still a kid playing kid's games, mistaking insults for threats. She suspected that his arrogant act was just that: an act. He was trying to copycat his father's behavior and pulled it off well enough that Harry believed it, but inside he was quaking within his shoes.

The trouble is, Hermoine wasn't very good at being a girl. She was uncomfortable with wearing make-up, jewelry and such that attracted guys. She was far more comfortable being the bookworm and wearing baggy clothes that hid her figure. Perhaps she just wasn't ready for a real relationship. Still, she found Draco incredibly attractive and wouldn't mind being seen on his arm, even if it would make her blush. And maybe, just maybe, he'd try to kiss her…

/A real kiss…/

Hermoine had never experienced a real kiss before and she idly pondered what it would be like. That professional Quidditch player who had taken her to the Yule Ball in Fourth Year had only kissed her briefly on the forehead. She had heard from her giggling roommates that a kiss was supposed to be thrilling, to make one's knees go weak. She wasn't exactly too sure what that meant yet, but she hoped that she'd find out one day. Not that she was what boys went after, no. Not even Ron and Harry looked at her that way and secretly that made her glad. It would be just too strange to date either of them, as they were like the brothers she never had. But a kiss from Draco, that would really be magical!

/If only Draco would notice me!./

He noticed her all right, but in all the wrong ways! Closing her chocolate eyes for a moment, she once again found herself outside the train in Hogsmeade. People were busy boarding; the sidewalk cluttered with baggage and owl cages. She had just been ready to step onto the train when someone cut her off, rudely stepping in front. Hot indignation flashed through her and she had opened her mouth to tell the person off when she noticed the familiar white-blonde hair. Draco had turned to face her, the usual sneer fixed to his face. She noticed how smooth his hair laid on his head, the fine strands gleaming in the sunlight as his bangs dangled in his eyes. And what eyes! They sparkled and shone like liquid silver and she could easily understand why half the girls in school were in love with him. His clothes were as spotless as usual, perfectly tailored. He stared at her for a long moment, their eyes locked together. Hermoine had realized her mouth was hanging open and she quickly closed it, heat rising to her face. He smirked at her and then had disappeared into the train, vanishing from sight.

/And now I won't see him again until September!./

She knew it was dumb and hopeless. He'd most likely marry Pansy someday or one of the other girls just like her. Merlin knew the school was filled with brainless, giggling girls that were Purebloods. Most of them were in Slytherin as well. A lot of them only seemed to care about clothes and who was dating whom. It was all very boring really and Hermoine had no idea how he could stand such giggling gits. In her opinion, grades and knowledge was far more important. They had their entire future to look forward to and it was best to be prepared. Not that Hermoine was that dumb. No, only a total fool would be dreaming of marrying someone they didn't even know. But she would like to get to know him better, the real him. But how could she do that when everyone in her house was convinced he was evil incarnate? Why, she couldn't even talk to him! If she'd try, no doubt Ron and Harry would gang up on him and say he was up to no good.

/It's utterly hopeless…/

Hermoine sighed again and turned her attention to the window. Outside, the green countryside was sweeping past at a fast pace and she secretly thought that it would be wonderful if Draco would be here with her. But that was just a dream. He was off with the Slytherins no doubt…

000

The thing was, Draco was not off with the Slytherins. He was, in fact, emerging from the bathroom when he ran into two very specific Gryffindors in the hallway. He had wanted to bring Crabbe and Goyle with him, but the two plump boys were busy packing their faces, as usual. They had somehow smuggled a huge load of chocolate cupcakes from the school onto the train and the feast covered one entire seat. Draco had frowned at the disgusting display of gluttony and he idly wondered for the thousandth time why he even bothered with the two. Then he thought of Potter and he remembered. With a nutcase like that at school, it was good to have a pair of goons on his side. But he had drunk too much pumpkin juice that morning at breakfast and so he had set off towards the lone bathroom by himself. He had been cautious on the way, his wand out in front of him. But now they had him cornered, his wand stuck in his back pocket. He had very stupidly forgotten to pull it back out after he had washed his hands in the sink. And now he was going to pay the price. His parents hadn't been exactly happy last year when he came off the train badly hexed, his face distorted from curses. In fact, his father had been livid.

"You'll pay for what you did this morning, Malfoy!" Ron threatened, his wand pointing right at the blonde's pointed face. "I saw you cut Hermoine off, you stinking snake!"

Harry also had his wand out, the long wooden rod pointing at his face as well. "We'll hex you so bad this time your parents won't even recognize you."

Draco gulped nervously, his gray eyes widening in fright. By himself he knew he was no match for both of them, especially since they had the upper hand. Still, he knew more curses and hexes than they did and if they wanted a battle; he'd give them one. His father wasn't a Death Eater for no reason, after all. Lucius knew Dark Magic and had taught him some of it. Oh, nothing like the really bad stuff but things to get revenge on Potter. Yet he hadn't dared use any of it at school for fear of expulsion. His hand quickly darted for his wand but before he could even grip it properly, a spell from Ron's wand hit him. A weird feeling shot through his body and he immediately felt himself shrinking, changing…

A moment later he found himself lying on the floor, a pair of tiny white paws sticking out in front…

/White paws… Oh no, not again!./

Draco craned his head upward and he spotted two towering figures laughing at him. Each appeared as tall as Hogwarts castle itself and he knew instinctively what had happened. Anger flowed through his body at the sight of their quivering bodies laughing at him, fingers pointing in his direction.

/That idiot Weasley! He turned me into a ferret!./

Draco hated being a ferret. It brought back the horrifying moment of being bounced about Fourth Year by that madman, Moody. The guy had given him the creeps with that freaky eye and ugly face. He really had thought that sorry excuse for a teacher was going to kill him! Worst, after that people had started to call him 'The Bouncing Ferret', a nickname he hated. He was a Pureblood and better than all of the other sorry people attending the school. How dare they treat him like that, like he was some kind of joke? And now that Weasley had made him into the animal again! How that dim-witted git even managed the spell was beyond him; they weren't even supposed to know it yet! Human transfigurations were only supposed to be for Seventh Years, but when did those two ever obey rules? They did whatever they pleased and the Headmaster allowed it, often giving them special awards to boot. It annoyed Draco to no end. If he were to even attempt one of the things the famous trio did, he'd be suspended in a heartbeat.

Furious, Draco darted forward and quickly scrambled up Weasley's dirty sneaker. Hating himself for what he was about to do, he sunk his sharp little teeth into the tender flesh of the red head's ankle. The boy's blue jeans were too short, a good several inches of skin stuck out between his shoe and the hem of his jeans. A vile, disgusting taste filled his mouth but he ignored it. This was revenge and his father had taught him sometimes one needed to do vile acts, to get one's hands dirty.

"Ooowwwww!" Ron shrieked loudly as he felt the teeth sink into his ankle. He quickly bent over and grabbed the long furry animal around its middle with both hands. Yanking it free of his ankle, he glared at it. "The little devil bit me!"

This news didn't surprise Harry one bit. "What did you expect? Slytherins like shedding blood…"

Draco squirmed frantically in Ron's hands, desperate to get away. The hands, however, was like a vice around his middle and he couldn't get free. His tiny claws uselessly scratched at the air and he tried to twist his head forward, hoping he could bite Ron again. Perhaps if he'd do so, the boy would drop him. Weasley was holding him at chest height and Draco's stomach twisted uncomfortably when he spied how far away the floor seemed. Thanks to his new size, what would only be a few feet suddenly seemed like hundreds. Still, dropping the distance was preferable to whatever Weasley had planned for him.

"I bet it's not the first time, either…" Ron sourly commented as he spotted an open window up ahead.

Draco squealed loudly in Weasley's hands as he continued to break free.

/That's not true! I never spilled anyone's blood before, you stupid Weasel! You're the very first!./

The vile, disgusting coppery taste of Ron's blood clung to his tongue and the roof of his mouth, making him sick to his stomach. He longed to spit it out and rinse his mouth out, but he couldn't. The stupid lout had him trapped and fear shot through his body. His heart beat incredibly fast within his tiny ribcage and he feared what the Weasel was up to. The two Gryffindor boys hated him and he feared the worst that they had this planned.

"He's just as bad as his father. They're all the same…" Harry commented, his voice booming loudly.

Draco felt the air move past him quickly, ruffling his fur, as Ron moved his hand. Suddenly a huge open window loomed before him and he shrieked in terror. The idiot was going to toss him out the window of a moving train! The gap loomed closer and closer and then he was outside, only Ron's hand hanging onto his middle. The air blasted him in the face with the force of a hurricane, plastering his fur to his body. The quickly moving scenery made him dizzy as playing Quidditch never had and his stomach heaved upward. Sharp pebbles that lined the rail flew by beneath him and he could imagine dropping onto them all too easily. He would be killed for sure, hopelessly mangled! Frantically he squealed for help.

/Somebody do something! The Weasel is trying to murder me!./

000

Hermoine had heard a commotion out in the corridor near their compartment. It sounded like some animal screaming for bloody murder. Suspecting Crabbe and Goyle were up to no good, Hermoine heaved herself out of her seat and hurried out into the hall. But instead of finding the two fat Slytherin pigs, she saw her two best friends. Ron had his hand stuck out the open window, a small white furry rat grasped in it. She couldn't see the rat very well; as Ron's arm partly blocked the view, but it's frantic expression was clear. It's front paws waved helplessly in the air, its pink mouth open in terror. Righteous anger flowed through her veins and she wasted no time marching up to the laughing boys. "Ronald Weasley! What do you think you're doing to that animal? You give it to me this instant!"

Ron's eyes grew wide and he quickly jerked the ferret inside, his face growing red at being caught. "This bloody thing bit me! It deserves it!"

But Hermoine would have none of it. Reaching out, she snatched the white animal from Ron and cradled it against her chest. Her brown eyes flashed angrily at him, her face twisting up in anger. "How dare you treat any animal that way! You should be ashamed of yourself! Both of you! Harry, how could you let him do that?"

"I … I.." Harry stuttered, his face also reddening from embarrassment.

Hermoine could feel the poor thing trembling against her and she spun on her heel, her ponytail of wavy brown hair almost slapping the two boys in the face. "I don't care what it did to you, Ronald Weasley! You should never, ever treat any creature that way! Animals deserve our respect, not to be tortured. And if it bit you, you no doubt deserved it!"

"But look at my poor leg!" Ron's voice cried out from behind her.

Ignoring him, Hermoine returned to her seat in the compartment. Her entire body felt hot, as if her blood was boiling in her veins. If was rare when she grew this angry but the sight she had witnessed was just so horrible she couldn't stand it. It had been bad enough when they were picking on Draco and now on some poor helpless animal! If she ever saw Ronald Weasley's face it would be far too soon. She longed to slap him hard right across the face, so hard her hand would be red and stinging. Still, she wasn't out-of-control like the boys. If she did that, Ron would probably strike her right back. He had a fiery temper and the red hair to prove it. And she remembered all too well the fight Arthur Weasley had gotten into in the bookstore second year, shoving Lucius Malfoy backward into a bookcase. No doubt Ron was turning into a hothead just like his father.

/I pity any girl that ends up married to Ronald!./

Her nerves were jumping wildly and Hermoine ran her hands soothingly over the warm body cradled against her chest. Glancing down, she was surprised to see it was a ferret and not a white rat as she had thought. It had a cute pink nose and big gray eyes. The thing was just adorable and she smiled at it, making a soft cooing sound. She had no idea where Ronald had found a ferret and she pondered this a moment, her lips pressed together firmly.

/Hagrid!./

Their big half-giant friend bred ferrets to feed to hippogriffs! Deciding Ronald must have stolen one just to toss it out the window of a moving train, Hermoine's opinion of him sunk even lower. She had thought Ronald was her friend, but if he really enjoyed doing these sorts of things…

/I'm not going to forgive him for this!./

"Hermoine," Ron poked his red head into the apartment, his eyes automatically landing on the ferret. At the sight of him, it hissed loudly and its whole body went rigid. "You still don't have that bloody thing, do you? Get rid of it!"

"I will NOT get rid of it, Ronald!" Hermoine wrapped her arm around its furry body, cradling it from his sight. "Do you think I'm dumb enough to let it go so you can grab it again? How dare you steal a ferret from Hagrid! He's our friend and you betrayed his trust!"

"I didn't steal that thing from Hagrid!" Ron protested loudly. Lifting his foot up onto the other seat, he pointed at the bite mark on his leg. It had stopped bleeding soon after Draco had bit him. In fact, it had bled very little; a fact that the red-haired boy couldn't understand. There were several deep punctures on the side of his leg, just above the anklebone. The skin around each bite was snowy white and slightly puffy. "Look what it did to me, Hermoine! It BIT me! I bet it has rabies!"

"If you were that lucky!" Hermoine shot back, her eyes flashing. She was really beginning to hate Ron. "You get out of my sight before I hex you!"

"But … but it's THUMPING!" Ron cried, his face cringing up in pain and fear.

Hermoine picked up her wand and aimed it at his started face. "OUT before I give you some real thumping!"

000

"Did you tell her?" Harry asked after he saw Ron dash out of the compartment as if Voldemort himself were in there.

"No, she wouldn't let me!" Ron replied, an angry expression on his freckled face. "Let her take bloody Malfoy home with her. What do I care?"

000

Hermoine exited the train with difficulty. She hadn't seen Harry or Ron during the rest of the trip, a fact that had pleased her to no end. She just hoped they weren't torturing some other little animal or some of the Slytherins. She had been so busy soothing her new pet that she had totally forgotten about Draco. Now she paused among the busy bustle of students exiting the train, her eyes scanning for a dot of whitish-blonde hair. Due to his unique coloring, he was generally easy to spot in a crowd. Still, the place was so crowded with parents and students that it was virtuously impossible to find anyone. Sighing, she returned her attention to the difficult job in front of her. She not only had her trunks of school stuff, but Crookshanks in a carrier as well plus the ferret that was wrapping itself around her neck. Half fearing it might leap off into the crowd and get trampled or lost, she clung to it with one hand. Spotting an empty luggage rack nearby, she dashed to get it and piled all her belongings on it. Once everything was secure, she struggled to push it one-handed, the other hand on the ferret.

A large group of redheads appeared in the crowd from up ahead and she bit her bottom lip, frowning. Hermoine knew it was the Weasleys and normally she was pleased to see Molly and Arthur. But Ronald was not her friend at the moment and she feared they'd take his side over hers. She clearly remembered that day when Mrs. Weasley had blamed her for cheating on Harry due to one of the fake articles that awful woman had written! It hurt that Molly would listen to outright lies from a newspaper article instead of bothering to ask if it were true. She had never even dated Harry to begin with! She had a right mind to march up to them and tell his parents exactly what Ron had been doing on the way home, but no…that would be tattling. Still, Ron did deserve it…

Utter disgust crawled through her. She was sick of the whole thing already and just wanted to get home. Pushing her cart to the wall, she easily avoided the clump of Weasleys. The large crowd surged between her and the family of redheads, shielding her from their sight. All around her parents searched for their children but Hermoine didn't bother looking for hers. Her parents were Muggles and couldn't pass through the barrier. She'd find them on the other side, in the Muggle part of the station. She was still amazed and didn't exactly understand how they could even enter Diagon Alley…

Pushing her cart through the crowd, Hermoine felt the ferret start to squirm. It dug its sharp little claws into the fabric of her Muggle T-shirt and partly into her skin beneath. Moaning slightly at the sharp pain in her shoulder, she reached up to grip it with both hands. Fear spiked through her as she felt it's slim long body sliding between her hands as it leaped to the ground.

/No!./

Hermoine threw herself forward and she landed belly-first on the cold sidewalk that ran along the train track. Her hand snaked out like lightning and landed on the little animal's back. Quickly crawling forward on her knees, she gripped it by the scruff of its neck. Relief flooded through her as she picked it up and pressed it against her chest. Bending her neck, she pushed her face against its soft fur. "Don't do that again! Do you want to get lost and trampled in this crowd?"

The ferret squealed loudly, its mouth opening and sharp white teeth flashing in the light. She was amazed at how white its teeth were and she'd swear its breath smelled slightly like mint. But that was crazy! Still, she was highly impressed how well Hagrid took care of his animals. She knew he loved each one of them to pieces, even the vicious ones with three heads. Maybe he even brushed their teeth. She certainly tried to brush Crookshank's teeth, although her Persian didn't exactly care for it. She could feel eyes on her and she lifted her head from the ferret's soft body.

The Malfoys were standing there, equal expressions of disgust on their faces. Lucius had the same silvery gray eyes that Draco did, but his looked cold and aloof. His snake-headed walking stick was clutched in one black-gloved hand, its eyes glittering like green emeralds. Knowing the Malfoys, they probably were emeralds. They certainly were rich enough to have all the emeralds they wanted. He was dressed all in black except for the blood red lining of his cloak and the silver snake jewelry pinned to his chest. Narcissa stood beside him, her eyes staring at her with clear disgust. She was wearing an expensive green evening gown, the dress having an old-fashioned look about it. Hermoine actually thought it quite pretty. It was very Victorian and romantic, nothing like what Muggle clothing designers made these days. She wouldn't mind wearing a dress like that and being swept around a dance floor or standing on a balcony covered in roses…

/I'm a hopeless romantic…./

The thought was shocking to say the least. She had no idea where it had come from or why she was even thinking it. Why, she had never ever seen anything like it before. Suddenly realizing she was still kneeling on the ground, ferret clutched to her chin and literally staring at the Malfoys – who was now sneering – was too much! Red faced, she scrambled to her feet and pushed her cart to the magic gateway as quickly as she could. It was without doubt one of the most embarrassing moments of her life!

/It just had to be them! Bloody Pureblooded snobs!./

She passed through the gateway without incident, the trembling ferret still clutched against her chest. It was clear that the noise and bustle of the train station was bothering her new pet. Its entire body shook something awful and when she glanced down at it, she saw it's gray eyes wide with fear. The air rattled out of its pink little nose fast and quick, its mouth open partway. "Oh, you poor little thing! I'll have you home soon enough and then you can relax! Don't you worry about that mean old Ronald Weasley. I won't let him come near you any more…"

A Muggle train zoomed past at horrendous speed and she felt the ferret shake in her arms, its eyes wide in terror. She cooed at it softly and then heard Crookshanks start up a rumpus within the carrier. Her cat didn't like the noise of the train station, either. Nor did Crookshanks like the car or being in the carrier. To show his hatred of the current situation, he started to yowl loudly, the horrible sound attracting the attention of several passerbies. "Yes, yes! You'll be home soon and then I can let you out!"

Spotting her parents up ahead, Hermoine hurried over to them.

"What's that you have there?" Her father asked with curiosity as he spotted the white bundle of fur in her arms.

"A ferret." Hermoine replied, her face darkening as she remembered how she had came in position of it. "That awful Ronald was holding it out the train window!"

"No!" Her mother gasped, a hand flying to her mouth in horror.

"Yes, he was! But I was just lucky enough to rescue it before he dropped the poor thing." Hermoine glanced down at the little furry bundle in her arms. The ferret was looking towards her parents, a strange frightened look in its eyes. "Can we go, Dad? I almost lost him once. I think all the noise of the train station is frightening him…"

"Sure, honey." Her father pushed the luggage cart outside to their car and quickly loaded it in. Crookshanks carrier was placed on the back seat and Hermoine slid in next to it. Placing one hand on the top of the carrier to steady it, she held the ferret on her lap. It's little head turned this way and that, trying to see everything at once. Hermoine smiled, thinking it was the cutest thing ever. As her father was driving away from the train station, a thought flashed through her mind and her heart sunk. She hadn't gotten a chance to see Draco before leaving…

/Now I'll have to wait all the way until September!./

Sighing, Hermoine stroked the ferret's smooth white fur not realizing that Draco was sitting on her lap.

To be continued…

OK, I hope the characters are not TOO out of character. Normally I wouldn't have Harry or Ron do something awful like that, but I needed a reason for Hermoine to take the ferret. And NO, Ron was not going to drop it. He was just scaring him and being a git.


	2. Hermoine's House

My Ferret 2

Author's Note: You guys wanted more and here it is…

Draco sat cuddled on Hermoine's lap within the moving Muggle vehicle, shocked. He couldn't believe that his parents hadn't recognized him. How could they not? He was their son! When he had spotted them waiting for him, he had scrambled off Hermoine's shoulder and had raced towards them. His father would take the spell off and he'd be back to himself! He had been so sure. But then the truth came crashing down on him and his hope died.

/They didn't recognize me at all…/

How could they? He was a ferret; a worthless furry animal. Their son was a respectable Pureblood and he didn't associate with lower-class people like Mudbloods. But now he was stuck with the Mudblood. At first he had been overjoyed when Hermoine had rescued him from Weasley. Even cuddling against Granger was better than getting tossed out a moving train window. At first his mind had been a bit blank as shock rolled through him, his body shivering uncontrollably. Hermoine's protective arms felt safe and warm, her chest a solid wall of safety. Her hand moved down his back smoothing his fur and he was surprised how nice it felt to be stroked, even if it was by Granger. Normally he wouldn't let Granger touch him. He liked to joke that she'd contaminate him with Mudblood germs, although he really didn't think she could contaminate him. Still, it pleased him to see her take it so seriously, as if he really believed such nonsense! He was born a Pureblood and he'd stay a Pureblood; nothing could change that. Still, sometimes it was a struggle keeping his face straight, eyes glowering at her so gravely with his trademark sneer in place. That didn't mean he wanted to associate with her though. She had nothing to offer him.

/Except my life…/

Yes, as much as he hated to admit it, Hermoine Granger had saved his life. That Gryffindor way of thinking had worked in his favor this time. Bloody Gryffindors were always trying to do the right thing. They apparently loved ridiculous things like helping old grannies across the street, stopping evil wizards from dominating the world and stopping Weasley from tossing ferrets out moving train windows. Of course, Weasley was in Gryffindor, too. But anyone could tell that his thinking process was screwed up; no surprise there.

/The bloody git probably should be in Slytherin…/

Stupid Gryffindor fools! Why were they always beating him up for? He wasn't Voldemort! Sure, he liked to bug Potter once in a while, but still! He didn't think a bit of teasing equaled the beatings he got. And what did they mean he was evil? He wasn't evil!

/OK, so maybe I say a few things I shouldn't…/

Maybe it wasn't exactly nice calling Granger a Mudblood. She did save his life, after all. Maybe he should try and be politically correct, like his father kept telling him. Lucius wanted him to use the term Muggle-born and not Mudblood, saying it wasn't good for the family's reputation to be caught using it. He had never listened before, mainly because his father wasn't there to strike him with his walking stick. Getting his fingers slapped by the heavy silver head of the walking stick really hurt. That thing was solid and far heavier than it looked. Over the years, Draco had learned to be quicker than his old man, often avoiding getting hit. But maybe it was time that he stopped using the term. He owed Granger at least that if not more.

Snapping out of his reverie, Draco glanced fearfully around. Odd smells surrounded him here in the strange Muggle vehicle. He had heard a bit about them at school, especially when Potter and Weasley had crashed one into the Whomping Willow Second Year. But he never dreamed that he'd be in one. He was trapped on Granger's lap, his long body stretched out on her legs. Her hand was heavy on his back, holding him in place securely. He couldn't see much from where he was. There was a solid leathery wall in front and from the sound of it, her parents were on the other side. There were talking but he paid it no heed. Next to Granger was a large light gray plastic crate, a metal grill on the front. Inside was that horrible ginger cat he'd seen a few times at school. The poor beast was going nuts inside the Muggle-made trap, running around in frantic circles and yowling as loudly as it could. Its yellow eyes, when Draco could see them, were wide and full of panic.

And then it hit him…

/This is really happing. Granger is taking me home with her…/

Depressed, Draco laid his fuzzy chin on Hermoine's leg and watched Crookshanks turn circles in the carrier.

000

Hermoine carried the heavy cat carrier into the house with one hand, the other hand clutching the ferret. She was a bit worried as to how Crookshanks would take the new pet she had acquired on the train. Although he was used to seeing other animals at the school, at home he had always been an only cat. Now if he was suddenly forced to share his home with a ferret, he may get jealous of the newcomer. Hermoine, being the bookworm she was, had read tons of books on cats. And every one had recommended caution when introducing a new pet into the household. Then there was the fact that she had a ferret, not another cat or a dog. Cats were carnivores and generally loved to hunt smaller animals, so she was unsure how Crookshanks would feel about the ferret. Would he see it as prey?

/I hope not…/

A shiver passed through her as she wearily set the heavy carrier onto the ground. Crookshanks was a big cat and he was heavy, weighing at least twelve pounds. Glancing towards the front to make sure the door was closed and both her parents in the house, she bent low and opened the door on the carrier. A ginger streak zoomed out and was gone within seconds. Closing the carrier door, Hermoine grinned. Knowing Crooks, he had dashed off to go hide in the pantry – his favorite hiding spot. Crookshanks hated the cat carrier. He hated being cooped up in the box that had no exit. But after that one trip to the train station when they all had gotten badly scratched by Crookshank's claws as he had gone crazy in the car, she had been forced to get one. It really was the best solution.

Yawning, Hermoine held the ferret against her chest as if he were a cat. She could feel his little claws gently gripping her T-shirt, his little pink nose sniffing the air around him. It was late and she was sleepy from the long train ride and then from the car trip home. Glancing towards the front bay window, she could see all her neighbor's houses were lit up, their windows glowing brightly. It was odd to see electric lights again after being so long at Hogwarts with the glowing candles and crackling fires. Electric lights, she discovered, were much harsher on the eyes and she often found herself squinting at their brightness upon first returning.

Her stomach rumbled loudly and she headed to the kitchen. Setting the ferret down gently on the table, she headed towards the refrigerator. Knowing her mother, she had a plate of cooked food for her and all she'd have to do was warm it in the microwave. Spotting it immediately sitting on the bottom self covered in foil, she pulled it out and removed the foil. Carrying it to the microwave, she placed it inside and closed the door. Pressing the appropriate buttons, it started to cook.

000

Draco gawked wide-eyed at the huge room around him. The light that hung high overhead was incredibly bright and it stung his eyes painfully, yet he didn't dare close them. The room was both frightening and fascinating at the same time; something he couldn't quite grasp. There were no smoking candles or brightly lit fireplace, yet there was light; a light that glowed brighter than the sun! He cautiously inched forward across the smooth wooden table as he watched Hermoine move about. First she opened some huge white box that vaguely reminded him of a wardrobe, as it had the same basic shape, but there was another bright light inside it. She removed something from it and stuck it inside another box, this one smaller and black.

/What is she doing/

Draco had to admit he had no idea. It was clearly all Muggle stuff…

/I'm in a Muggle home!./

He couldn't believe it. The great Draco Malfoy, the prince of Slytherin house and purest of the Purebloods, was in a Muggle house! If his fellow classmates ever heard of this…

/I'd be the laughing stock of Hogwarts!./

Yes, he'd never live it down. Not only had Weasley turned him into a ferret, but Granger had taken him home as a pet! How would he ever explain this to anyone? How would he explain it to his parents? Surely they'd come looking for him? Turning a slow circle on the tabletop, Draco spotted a window. It was fully dark outside now and he knew his parents must be frantic with worry. By now he was sure the train had been searched and they realized he wasn't on it, that he had vanished. What would they do? How would they ever find him? Could they find him at all or would he be forced to stay here for months until school started again? He could imagine his mother crying, his father worrying. No matter what some people at school thought of his parents, they weren't cold-blooded. They truly cared for him and he knew his father wouldn't stop searching until he was found. Lucius Malfoy was not one to give up, especially where his only son and heir was concerned.

/Father will find me…./

Turning, his tiny claws clicking on the wooden surface, Draco returned his attention to the bushy haired girl. He saw she was placing what looked like sliced cheese between slices of bread, put it on a plate. The black box made a noise and Draco's heart skipped a beat, surprised. It was obvious, however, that Granger was expecting it as she dashed over to it, a large thing over her hand. She opened the door and pulled out a plate of hot food and placed it on the table. Then she stuck the cheese sandwich into the box, closing it again.

/The black box cooks food somehow…/

A large noisy bag was placed on the table as well and he watched Granger open it. Reaching in, she pulled out a handful of some curled things and placed them in front of him. "I'm afraid I don't know what you eat, but maybe you'll like these corn chips. Crooks enjoys them once in a while…"

/I eat what you eat, Granger/

Draco wrinkled his pink little nose in disgust. Granger hadn't even given him a plate! What did she think he was, some common animal that ate off the table or the floor? Then he remembered the sad truth.

/I am an animal…/

Yes, he was still a ferret, curse that Weasley! He still didn't know how that idiot had managed to do such a complex spell yet. He was among those that received the worst grades in school or so he had heard. But maybe that wasn't true. Or else he must have been secretly practicing just … just …

/Just to turn me into a ferret!./

It was a planned conspiracy! The black box beeped again and he watched as Hermoine pulled the plate of grilled cheese out and placed it on the table. Sitting down, she carefully pulled a small hunk off her sandwich and placed that in front of him as well. The bread was nicely toasted and the yellow cheese was soft and gooey. The blonde Slytherin had to admit he liked grilled cheese, he just wasn't used to a sandwich being almost as big as he was! The delicious smell was traveling up his nose and he felt his mouth water. He eyed the piece of sandwich critically, knowing that Granger had her fingers all over it. Did he really want to eat something she had touched?

/Do I have any choice?./

Draco sighed, knowing he didn't. He didn't know how long it would take for his father to track him down to this Muggle neighborhood. It might actually take a few days and he needed to keep his strength up, to eat. Inching closer to the bit of sandwich, he nibbled on it. It was decidedly odd eating with one's mouth only. He was used to high-class dining with several spoons, forks and knifes. And here he was resulting to being a barbarian! It was down right disgusting to say the least. But his new body seemed to know how to feed itself and he quickly finished off the hunk of grilled cheese. Smacking his mouth, he sniffed curiously on one of the chips. Draco had never seen corn chips before and he had no real idea what they were. Still, it smelled tasty so he bit into one of them. Salt filled his mouth and he suspected it was some sort of Muggle junk food.

/I bet Crabbe and Goyle would love these things…/

Draco snickered mentally as he imagined each one of them resting on the black leather sofa of the Slytherin common room, a big bag of corn chips in their lap. The two goons would dumbly pack their faces, as they grew fatter and greasier. The thought was sickening. One had to care about their physical appearance. Of course, he had no idea that many Muggles did the same thing while watching TV. Not that Draco even knew TVs even existed yet…

Spitting the partly chewed corn chip out, he eyed her plate. Hermoine had climbed out of her seat and was digging in the white wardrobe thing that Muggles kept food in. Seeing that her back was turned, he darted forward and poked his long face into her plate of food.

/Stupid Granger! Giving me junk food while she keeps the vegetables to herself!./

Well, he knew how to fix that easily!

000

Hermoine popped open her can of orange soda and took a long swallow, sighing in pleasure. She couldn't believe how many months she'd gone without drinking any soda at all. Not that she tended to guzzle the stuff or anything; it's just that once in a while she enjoyed a can of the cold stuff. Unfortunately, the Wizarding World lacked many Muggle inventions, soda being one of them. Closing the refrigerator door, she turned and gasped.

The ferret was gulping down all of her peas!

Laughing, she ate the rest of her sandwich. If he wanted her plate of food, he could have it. She had eaten most of it already, anyway. "Well, at least we know what you eat now."

After they had both finished eating, the ferret burping even, Hermoine cleaned the table. She filled Crookshanks bowl with dry kibble and another with water, and then picked up her ferret. Cradling him against her chest, she carried him upstairs to her bedroom. She was still unsure how Crookshanks would react to the new animal, so she would keep him in her room for the time being. The ginger cat was still hiding from his encounter with the hated cat carrier, no doubt. By tomorrow he should be back to his usual self.

Opening her bedroom door, Hermoine entered it and closed it behind herself. The last thin she wanted was to wake up in the middle of the night to see Crooks with the ferret in his mouth! That would be horrible! A cold shiver passed through her at the thought and she was determined to make certain the door was firmly shut. She flipped the overhead light on and discovered her father had already placed her trunk of school stuff in her room at the foot of her bed. She smiled at the sight, thinking she was blessed to have such wonderful, caring parents. Walking towards the bed, she gently put the ferret down on it and sat down next to him. It was strange being home after being at Hogwarts for so long. Her room, although familiar, felt a bit like a stranger's due to her being away for so long.

The bedroom itself was done up in pink and white. A dark cherry dresser with an antique-style round mirror stood against one wall, the dresser top piled with books left there from last summer. The dresser had come from her great-grandmother and a few of her possessions were still inside it; Hermoine keeping them as treasures of a sort. Not that they were valuable money-wise. If they were, her parents wouldn't let her have them as a kid. But they were souvenirs from a bygone era much the same way that Hogwarts was stuck in the past. She enjoyed taking the items out and looking at them every so often, wondering what it had been like living in those days. The distinctions between items made back then and now were very clear-cut. Today everything in the Muggle world was plastic, ranging from credit cards to shopping bags to bottles. The Muggle world was loud and fast; speeding cars with booming stereos. Although she appreciated some of the modern inventions, other things seemed to be lacking.

Like romance.

Romance seemed to be dead in the Muggle world. Most boys seemed only interested in one thing and that was sad. Perhaps it was due to the fact that basic modesty seemed to have died decades ago. With nudity in movies and underwear ads in the paper, no wonder it was dead. A boy was more likely to take you to a greasy food place these days than someplace with candlelight. And what was romantic about that?

/Of course, I'm not very romantic either…/

Yet her roommates at Hogwarts seemed to have found boyfriends from one house or another. Almost every evening they gathered by one of their beds and blabber excitedly. They'd discuss cute boys, clothes, make-up, hairstyles and all sorts of things. Once they had even talked nonstop for an entire evening about shoes! At the time, Hermoine had rolled her eyes and stuck her nose in her Herbology book, convinced they were all brain dead. When she went shoe shopping, it was to get only what she needed; like a sensible pair of sneakers. Then she'd try on a few pairs and walk around a bit, seeing how they fit her feet. Whichever felt best on her feet is what she bought. So to actually hear someone going on and on for hours about shoes…

And then they had started on purses!

That had been too much and she fled with her stack of books to the common room. Later that night when she had returned, they had still been sitting in a clump with scattered fashion magazines around them. They had glanced at her sadly, shaking their heads. It hadn't bothered her at the time, as she hadn't fallen in love yet. But now…

/Now I need to make a decision./

Yes, summer vacation was the prefect time to make an important decision. There were no tests to study for, no assignments due and best of all, no annoying close-minded people around. But that didn't make it any easier. In fact, it might make it even harder. What did she really know about being a girl? She spent all her time in the library or running around after hours doing dangerous stuff with Harry. Lying down on her bed, she grabbed the ferret around his middle and placed him on her chest. His beady little gray eyes reminded her of Draco and she sighed. This infatuation of hers was really getting bad if a furry animal reminded her of the blonde Slytherin.

/I wonder what he's doing this exact moment? I hope he's not running around doing bad things…/

No, Draco wasn't cut out to be a Death Eater. She was positive of that. Still, that bloody snake would probably try to control him, force him to do things. And with Harry and Ron fighting with him all the time, he'd have no one to turn to for help. He'd be stuck with one heck of a mess, like a fly trapped in a spider's sticky web. But if she could become friends with him somehow…

Hermoine frowned.

/Oh, just admit it! You want to date him somehow!./

"But how?" Hermoine asked herself, one hand absently stoking the ferret's back. "I'm not very feminine, am I? How could I ever get him to notice me?"

000

Draco stared up at Granger's giant face, surprised.

/Granger's in love?./

That was the last thing he ever expected. She spent so much time in the library he was convinced she never even knew boys existed. But apparently she did and now the miracle had happened. Some guy, most likely a Gryffindor, had caught her attention. And it was painfully clear she hadn't the slightest idea how to handle it. Then a new thought occurred to him and he grinned in a toothy ferret way.

/Maybe she'll spill all her dark, dirty secrets to me!./

Draco snickered within his head as he imagined all sorts of things he could learn this way about the famous trio. For all he knew, Potter sent her secret letters. Ferret or no ferret, he could still read. That is, presuming Potter's handwriting was legible. The Slytherin had serious doubts about that. And then there was the tantalizing fact of who the lucky guy was. Could it be Potter himself, old Scarhead?

/But she seemed angry at him…./

All right, so it wasn't Potter. And defiantly not Weasley, thank Merlin for that! Draco raked his brain, going through a mental list of the boys in Gryffindor. Truthfully, he didn't think much of any of them. Longbottom was a hopeless mess, Semus wasn't much better and that Colin boy was a real creep the way he carried that camera around, like it was part of his body or something. There were other boys in that house, he knew that, but who were they? His brain was drawing a blank and the ferret frowned, not an easy task. They were all not worthy of his attention so he paid them no heed.

/Maybe Granger will tell me./

The ferret looked up at her, expectantly.

/Come on, tell me who it is!./

000

Hermoine's chocolate eyes focused on the ferret. It was gazing up at her so cutely and she smiled. The more she looked at it, the more it reminded her of Draco. Its smooth white fur reminded her of his silky whitish-blonde hair that was unique to the Malfoys. She didn't think she ever saw that exact hair color on anyone else, ever. And it even had his dreamy gray eyes…

/Now you're just being silly! This ferret is just a ferret!./

Still, maybe she could use it as motivation, to remember her goal. If she didn't have a reminder, she might just put it off and go back to her regular routine of books and studying. And if that happened… "I'll never get a date then!"

No, she wouldn't. And he'd go off on the arm of some other girl! An alarmed expression flickered across her face and then she set her lips firmly, a determined look in her eyes. "I need a plan, that's what! I need to get his attention somehow. But how could I do that? He practically hates me…"

000

/He hates her?./

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. It was just unbelievable! Not only was Granger in love with some boy, but he hated her as well! This was just too good to be true. He was sitting here on her chest listening to the juiciest news ever, yet he felt a bit sad, too. She had saved his life, after all.

/And she really is clueless…/

Bookworm Granger really was clueless about being a girl. She had done something right that night of the Yule Ball in Fourth Year, but only that once. He was practically flabbergasted when he had seen her enter the room on that other guy's arm. Crum, was it? The fact that she had been the prettiest girl at the ball hadn't escaped his notice, yet the next day whatever magic she had used was gone. She was back to her frizzy hair and figureless clothes.

/That is, providing she has a figure…/

Draco was sitting on her chest where she had put him, but he didn't dare move. He didn't exactly feel comfortable sitting there. It was an awkward situation, really. The thing is, she didn't know that he was the ferret and if she ever found out…

/She'd kill me for sure!./

Yes, that she would. Although Granger didn't join in when the other two were beating on him, he was pretty sure she hated him. Yeah, maybe she had stuck up for him a few times in the past, but that was just her streak of fairness showing trough. He was beginning to think she disliked it when certain people were picked on, so she spoke up in their behalf. That didn't mean she liked him though. Nope. He was a Slytherin and Gryffindors hated Slytherins. No, make that the other three houses hated Slytherins. It was the same thing with her SPEW or whatever it was called, that stupid thing about house elves. He had a good laugh at it but his father didn't think it funny at all and he had almost lost his knuckles again. He had forgotten that Potter had freed a house elf years ago but Lucius hadn't.

"What would you do?" Hermoine said as she lifted him up around his middle and dangled him in front of her face.

/What would I do about what? Finish the sentence, Granger!./

"What would you do if you were in Gryffindor and in love with a Slytherin?"

To be continued…


	3. In Love With a Slytherin

My Ferret 3

Author's Note: Yes, I love ending chapters with cliffhangers. Guess you'll have to live with it. Thanks for all the GREAT reviews! Oh, by the way: I'm saying that boy you see with Draco in some scenes of the movie "PoA" is Blaise Zambini (sp?). The credits just say "Slytherin boy" but I'm guessing it's meant to be Blaise. So in this fic that boy will be Blaise, OK?

"What would you do if you were in Gryffindor and in love with a Slytherin?"

/A Slytherin! What do you mean you're in love with a Slytherin!./

Shock crashed over Draco like a huge ocean wave and just as cold. He tried to wrap his mind around the basic idea of what she had just said, but he couldn't. It made no sense! Granger was the Princess of Gryffindor. She was the perfect student or that's what Dumbledore thought anyway. She got perfect grades, obeyed all the school rules – except when she was running around with Potter – and even helped save ferrets from mean redheads. The idea that she of all people had feelings for someone in his house, well, it was just crazy! Slytherins were the exact opposite of her! They were sly when she was honest, they were greasy while she was clean, and they'd steal her last galleon while she'd happily donate it to charity. They'd cheat her at every chance and she'd foolishly believe them!

It was a disaster of epic proportions!

Draco closed his tiny ferret eyes and moaned within his head. He could just see it now. Granger would be staring dreamy-eyed at whomever and they'd be planning on how to disgrace her in front of the entire school! They'd ruin her reputation and snicker behind her back, say it was what she deserved for being in Gryffindor! Then she'd be humiliated. She'd go run off to cry uselessly in the bathroom; as if that would help. Worse, now that she'd broken up with Potter and Weasley, she'd have no one to support her through the crisis. She'd be miserable all by herself.

/She doesn't deserve that…/

No, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Granger wasn't really all that bad. Hadn't she just saved his life today? Not only that, but she hadn't gotten angry when she had caught him eating from her plate. If it had been his mother, she'd have had a fit. But Granger was apparently easy-going when she wasn't at school. And hadn't she been the one to tell that giant oaf to take him to the hospital Third Year after that thing had attacked him? A shiver of fear passed through his long body as he remembered the awful monster from Care of Magical Creatures. What had it been called, a hippogriff? The thing is, he owed her now and he needed a way to pay her back.

/Maybe I could try to help her out…/

He felt Hermoine put him back down onto her chest and he felt her hand stroking his back again. The sensation felt really good and he closed his eyes in pleasure. Truthfully, this was the first time he'd ever been this close to a girl and it was a bit hard to not get sidetracked, especially with her hand running down his back that way. Her own unique scent filled his nose; a mix of her own personal scent and soap.

/At least it's better than that horrid perfume Pansy wears…/

That stuff always gave him a banging headache, the fumes too strong. The girl obviously believed she had to soak herself in the stuff or it seemed that way to his nose. More than once he had seen a few First Years almost faint after she had walked past them in the corridor. Perfume isn't used that way. One was supposed to use just a little, generally at the pulse points. But some girls thought more was better or else they used some horrid cheap stuff. He knew for a fact his mother would be horrified by Pansy's perfume, Pureblood or not. It was just wrong.

/But who…?./

Draco pondered what Slytherin could have caught Granger's eye and couldn't possibly imagine. Everyone knew he was the best looking guy in the whole school, but she couldn't possibly like him. No way! Not after the horrendous way he kept treating her…

/So it must be someone else…/

But who? That was the question. He knew it couldn't be Crabbe or Goyle. No girl in their right minds would date those two slobs. There was Zambini but he wasn't too sure about him. Once in a while Draco talked to Blaise but not all that often. Sometimes the boy followed him around, like that day in Third Year when Granger had socked him in the face. Now that had really stung. It had damaged his pride more than his face and he had loudly vowed to get his revenge on her, not that he ever did. But why didn't he? He certainly had plenty of opportunities. He could have hexed her or something. It would have been all too easy, really. So why didn't he? He pondered that question for a time and finally gave up. Sometimes it seemed his own actions or lack of them was a total mystery even to him. Unless…

/Maybe I was secretly relieved that she had punched me…/

Yeah, that could be it. He had talked bravely about watching the execution to the other boys but did he really want to see such a thing? There had been a little bit of doubt way in the back of his mind that day, but he had shoved it aside. He wanted to be brave and strong like his father. But his father was an adult and he had only been thirteen. He had never seen anything killed before and well, he had secretly been a bit nervous about it all. But he had covered his nervousness with brave talk, creating some wild idea of tossing the creature's head into the Gryffindor Common Room. He didn't even know where their common room was. Not that it mattered. The thing is, the plan hid his true feelings from his two companions and that was all that mattered. And then Granger had showed up and had given him the perfect excuse to flee. Relieved, he did so.

/So maybe I owe Granger for that, too…/

Great, just great! And he still had no idea who the lucky Slytherin was…

000

Hermoine thought about what she had just admitted. It was official now. She liked a boy and he was in Slytherin. Of course, admitting it to her classmates would be a different thing. Her sad brown eyes dropped to the ferret resting on her chest, its little eyes like liquid silver. It reminded her of Draco so much, but that was just in her head. It returned her gaze and oddly enough, didn't glance away like Crookshanks generally did. Most animals, if you looked into their eyes long enough, would look away from you; uncomfortable. The ferret, however, didn't. It just kept gazing at her coolly with its silvery gray eyes and she found herself shifting her gaze off it.

/Great, I just lost a staring match with a ferret!./

If she couldn't handle a ferret, how was she ever to deal with Draco? She'd never find the courage to tell him the truth! She may be brave, yes, but that bravery was dealing with monsters and battles. This was something far worst. She would have to confess her feelings to her almost enemy. What if he thought it was funny? What if he laughed in her face? How could she ever take that kind of rejection? And her housemates, they'd hate her! They'd say she was consorting with the enemy or some such nonsense. She could see it all too easily.

"They're all such close-minded idiots!" Hermoine huffed, annoyed. She stroked the ferret's back with her hand. "You're lucky you're just a little ferret and don't have to deal with these problems. My own housemates will probably disown me if I ever let the truth out. I mean, how do you tell people these things? They'll say he's the enemy; I know they will. None of them ever listen to the Sorting Hat. The school is supposed to be one unit, not four houses divided! I tried to tell Harry and Ron that numerous times and do they ever listen? Noooo! They'd rather go around pounding on people because it makes them feel better!"

Still, she had a choice.

Sighing, Hermoine crawled out of bed, the ferret in her arms. Slowly she walked to the antique dresser and stared at herself in the round vanity mirror. She saw a plain girl with brown eyes and bushy brown hair; nothing special. Glancing down at the ferret, she scratched his tiny head. "Do you think I look like a hero? Because I don't think I do. Yet if I don't do something, then time will slip by and nothing will change. Well, that's not exactly right. They will change but for the worst. He'll probably become a Death Eater, like his father…"

000

/A Death Eater?./

Draco's little mouth gaped open in shock, his tiny sharp teeth visible. This was getting worst and worst! Not only was Granger in love with a Slytherin, but with a Death Eater's son as well! And all the Death Eaters were Purebloods from old families…

/Well, that certainly leaves Zambini out…/

Zambini's father wasn't a Death Eater, although he was a Pureblood. In fact, that left out a lot of people and narrowed the choices. So whom did that leave? Crabbe and Goyle? A quick feeling of disgust swept through him of the thought of Granger being in love with one of those two idiots.

/Please, no! Anyone but them…/

Still, he could control those two and that was something. He could at least order them to treat her decently…

But a Pureblood and a Mudblood? Would that even work? Maybe within other families it would, but the old Pureblood families were highly concerned with pedigree. One just didn't associate with those of lesser blood. It just wasn't done! Going that route would just lead to heartache and a lot of trouble. Granger was smart. Heck, she received better grades than he did! Why couldn't she see that? She was just begging for trouble! If he were human, he'd tell her that and not in a mean way, either. It was clear Granger was trying to change things by herself. She thought she could single-handed alter things that had been done a certain way for thousands of years. It just didn't work that way. Hadn't SPEW taught her that? She'd gotten nowhere with it. The Pureblooded families would be just as stubborn.

/Lucky it isn't me. Father would have a fit…/

He knew all too well how his father would react. Lucius would be furious if he ever tried to date a Mudblood. He would call it a scandal. And he would glare at him with those cold eyes and tell him to stop. No, order him to stop or else he'd take care of it himself. His parents were too set in their ways to ever change. Only some major event would do that and he just couldn't imagine such an event. So if Granger really thought she could ever win the heart of a Pureblooded Slytherin from a Death Eater family, well, she'd be taking on one heck of a challenge!

/Granger, you're doomed! Best you crawl back into your little tower and never come out…/

000

"But he's not cut out to be a Death Eater. I just know he isn't." Hermoine said as she placed the ferret down on the dresser top, scooping the pile of old books onto a nearby chair. She leaned forward and stared at herself in the mirror. Like the dresser, the mirror had a dark wooden frame, a pair of oblong wooden knobs on each side. She wasn't sure what the two knobs were for, but as a child she had hung things from them. Now they were just there, unused. A triangular base connected the mirror to the dresser, its sides smooth and curved. As she gazed at her own chocolate eyes in the mirror, she saw a lot of things in them; mainly doubt and fear. She doubted herself and her ability to do this thing, even if she knew it was the right thing to do. And she feared the school's reaction.

She had seen the very same emotions in Draco's eyes more than once. It wasn't often that he dropped the arrogant mask that he wore but once in a while he did. And it was those moments that the real Draco shone through. At first it had surprised her. She had taken his act to be the real him those first few years of school. She had really thought him to be the arrogant, annoying git that he was pretending to be, rich and spoiled.

But he wasn't.

Inside he was scared and unsure of himself. That's why he traveled everywhere with Crabbe and Goyle. They were his bodyguards, just in case something happened. But when he really needed them Hermoine noted, they didn't do very much. More often than not they let Harry beat him up and didn't interfere. No one thought he was worth saving, apparently not even Crabbe or Goyle.

/But I do…/

Yes, she did, but if she let his father bully him into becoming a Death Eater…

"It'll destroy him…" Hermoine whispered, her big brown eyes staring back at her sadly. The sad truth was that no one else at Hogwarts really cared about Draco's fate. They all just presumed he was evil, would become a Death Eater and that was that. No one was brave enough to interfere, to try and save him. "I can't let them destroy him!"

000

/Oh, so you want to be noble, too? How very Gryffindor…/

Draco crawled about on the dresser top, his little claws clinking softly. The wood under his paws was incredibly old, yet smooth and polished. It had the dark stain that he was familiar with. The manor was filled with the stuff and he was surprised to see something so well known to a Pureblood such as himself in her room. Granger was just filled with surprises and he idly wondered what else he might find out.

Yet the term Death Eater had made him a bit uneasy. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to become one or if he had what it took to be one. Because when it came right down to it, he was a coward. Hogwarts had given him numerous chances to test himself against different adversaries and each time he had run away.

/Even against those stupid pixies!./

How was he supposed to be a Death Eater and face people in battle if he couldn't even face a pixie? Over the years he had put the issue off, telling himself he had lots of time. But now most of that time was gone and his future was looming before him larger than ever. What could he do? His father would probably expect it of him, although he hadn't said so yet. Still, it hung there in the air between them, unspoken. Voldemort would expect him to take the mark on his arm, to take up the cloak and mask. What he himself wanted wasn't important. He was just expected to do the right thing, to do what was required and expected of him.

Somehow it didn't exactly seem right…

And now Granger wanted to save one of his fellows, as hopeless as it was.

/If only she wanted to save me…/

But was he worth saving? Draco had his doubts. He hadn't exactly been an angel and had done his fair share of school mischief. Still, it would be nice if someone thought he was worth saving.

/At least I wouldn't have to run around and kill people../

No, Draco shuddered as he imagined aiming his wand at some helpless Muggle. He wasn't capable of killing, no matter what Potter or Weasley thought of him. But whom was he kidding? Granger couldn't possibly be in love with him! What were the odds of that? Still, who else could it be? Crabbe or Goyle? They were just as unlikely. Granger deserved a nice guy, someone who she could trust and someone who would look out for her, take care of her. But guys like that were rare no matter what house you looked in. Everyone had flaws, sure, but he just couldn't see why she would love a Slytherin…

Glancing up, he had a good view of her chin, neck and chest as she bent over him to peer in the mirror.

/Well, I guess Granger did fill out a bit after all…/

000

A determined look filled her chocolate brown eyes and Hermoine pulled back from the mirror. "If no one else will save him, then I will!"

The problem is, she didn't know how to do this miracle. Talking to him would probably get her nowhere. The first thing she needed to do was to get his attention and change his opinion of her. He needed to see that she was more than just a bookworm or Harry Potter's friend. And she was more than a Muggle-born, too. She was an individual with feelings, wants and desires. And so if she just happened to be a girl?

A steely gaze in her eyes, she released a puff of air and gripped the metal handles of the top dresser draw with both hands. The handles were gently curved with a round design in the center. Pulling, the old drawer slowly squeaked open. Reaching in way to the back, she dug around for a moment ignoring the neat piles of undergarments. Her fingers encountered a small cardboard container and she pulled it out, placing it on the dresser top. It was round and stood about three inches tall, the top and bottom flat. The colors were faded but still visible, the background a pale blue. The cover showed the inky black silhouette of a curvy female figure walking a poodle dog on a leash, the Ifle Tower in the background. White curved words read 'Spring in Paris'. It was one of her great-grandmother's powder puff boxes.

Breathing steadily, Hermoine gazed down at it. It was one of the only bits of real make-up she owned and she had just saved it for the artwork on the outside of the container. That and she liked old-fashioned stuff, secretly, of course. But it appeared if she wanted to save Draco, she would have to do the supreme sacrifice.

She might actually have to WEAR the stuff.

000

Curious as to what Granger had pulled out of the drawer, Draco padded over to it. Peering at it, he realized it was an extremely old container of lady's face powder.

/Oh, great! Don't tell me you're depending on this stuff?./

Poking his pointed nose at the ancient box, he sniffed. His long white whiskers quivered and his pink nose wiggled. Surprised, he pulled back. The stuff actually had a nice smell! In fact, it smelled way better than whatever Pansy wore. If he were human, one of his dark brows would have raised but as he was a ferret the affect was lost amid the white fur. In fact, the more he sniffed at it, the more familiar it smelled…

/Now why the heck would this old Muggle stuff smell familiar to me?./

And then it hit him.

/Mother wears this stuff…./

And it was expensive, too. While Muggles had advanced forward with things, wizards had stayed the same. The same was true of make-up. The old Pureblood families preferred what Muggles would call 'old-fashioned' products, products that weren't even available in the Muggle world anymore. But back in the old days, Parisian make-up had been all the rage. The wizard family that had made it had sold it to both wizards and Muggles alike. They had gotten wealthy that way; mostly off the millions of Muggles that had bought it. Not that it was really a magic product. It wasn't. Still, it was a career and had become the family business. Muggles had moved on to more advance forms of make-up, but the family's descendants in Paris still followed the old, original recipe and sold make-up to the old Pureblood families that demanded nothing but the best.

/I can't believe Granger actually has this stuff!./

That alone shocked him. He would have thought she'd be into her modern Muggle stuff and here she had Spring in Paris! And one of the originals, too! Lifting his small fur-covered head, he gazed up at her with a new interest glowing in his silver eyes. The little Mudblood had a lot of secrets and one of them is that she liked old things.

/Perhaps she's not as much a Mudblood as I thought…/

What else did she have stashed away in that dresser drawer? Did she possess more old stuff that would fit perfectly into his arrogant yet old-fashioned family? Scurrying forward, Draco leaped off the edge of the dresser into the still open drawer. He landed on something white and soft. Sniffing, he realized it was cotton. Taking a step forward, his tender paw landed on something hard. Glancing down, he realized what it was and snickered.

/Granger! I'm walking on your metal-lined bras here!./

Still snickering, Draco darted deeper into the drawer. Ferrets were small and could crawl almost anywhere. People that owned them often remarked "How did he ever get in there?", as they were famous for squeezing into openings the humans had been sure were too small for their pet. So it was no problem for Draco at all to crawl to the back of the drawer. Sniffing in the relative darkness, he happily discovered a few more old things. His eyes glowed in the dark like twin flashlights, thanks to the layer of tapetum in his eyeballs. This allowed him to see in the dark, just like Crookshanks. His eyes landed on something way in the corner, folded neatly. Crawling over to it, he studied it carefully. It was some fine old silk, the original cardboard tag still attached. Studying it for a moment, Draco knew instantly what it was. They were never worn and had just sat here in the drawer for who knows how many years, waiting for that special day.

/Wonder how Granger would react if I pulled these out for her?./

He could imagine her face turning red from embarrassment. But since he was a ferret, she might look only confused. Still, if Granger really was set on catching that Slytherin of her dreams, she needed all the help she could get. And they would be a good hint.

Gripping the cardboard tag in his mouth carefully, he started to drag the item to the front of the drawer.

000

Back at the train station, one very irate Lucius Malfoy was glaring at Professor Dumbledore. The empty train had been fully searched and no trace had been found of his son, just Draco's trunk of school stuff and his eagle owl. By then the magical side of the train station had been almost deserted, just an uneasy Crabbe and Goyle staying behind, worried about the blonde Slytherin. The fat boys' fathers, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, were also there. They stood behind Lucius now, much as the younger versions stood behind Draco. "Well? Where is my son?"

"I assure you, Lucius, all the students were on the train." Albus Dumbledore replied calmly. "I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation for this…"

"Kidnapping is what this is!" Lucius bellowed, angry. Normally he didn't raise his voice but this was not a normal situation. His only son and heir was missing! With the well-known Malfoy fortune at his disposal, it was all too clear why someone may have snatched his son. Money was a powerful motive. That and the list of people he casually threatened for one reason or another. Any one of them might have taken Draco.

"Calm yourself, Lucius." Dumbledore rose his wrinkled hand, his voice serious. "I assure you the aurors will be here any moment and we'll discover your son's fate. But apparition onto the Hogwarts Express is impossible. You know that, Lucius. The train and its passengers are quite safe while it's traveling. No third party could have snuck aboard to kidnap young Draco. Nor do I detect any traces of dark magic in the air. I suspect the answer is something much simpler."

Lucius glared angrily at Dumbledore but he would wait for the aurors. He had already talked to Crabbe and Goyle and they had seen nothing, their hands and faces smeared with chocolate. Crabbe had remembered Draco had gone off to the bathroom alone and never returned, but the plump boy had thought nothing of it, sure he had stopped to chat with Pansy or Blaise. That, however, had not been the case.

Within moments, the group of Aurors arrived and they started to search the train. Sighing, Lucius went over to Narcissa to comfort her.

000

Hermoine was still gazing intently at the vintage powder container, a perplexed look on her face. "I wonder how do you use this stuff? Do you just use the puff to puff it on? Is that even the right word, puff? And even if I do figure that out, what about my hair – it looks, oh, I don't know what it looks like!"

But whatever it was, it wasn't glamorous. Usually she just tied it up in a ponytail and forgot about it. Sometimes she felt adventurous and she messily piled it on her head, but most days were not worth the effort. The thing is, she feared that no matter what she did to herself that she'd still look the same. What if she went through a lot of bother and no one noticed? That would be utterly horrible and she was sure it would cause her to break into tears. Besides, she was just a teenager! She couldn't expect to look glamorous, could she?

"But I have to try something…" Hermoine glanced at the dresser top and noticed the ferret was gone. Her chocolate eyes widened in fear and she started glancing around. Where did it go? She hadn't ferret-proofed her room yet! Her eyes widened in horror as she imagined it crawling down into the venting system.

/Oh no! I'll never get it back then!./

Turning quickly, she dashed to the heat vent on her wall and peered into the dark opening. She should have closed it immediately. The covering on it had tiny openings and she didn't think a ferret could fit into them, but still…

A loud squealing came from behind her and Hermoine twisted her neck to see what was making the sound. She spotted the ferret's little head poking out from within the dresser drawer and she sighed in relief. Reaching out, she firmly closed the vent cover and stood up. It was summer anyway and she didn't need it open. Walking over to her new pet, she was surprised to see something hanging from within its mouth. It looked like some kind of paper tag. Curious, she gripped the bit of paper and was shocked when a long something came out of the dresser drawer with it. The long thing was beige or tan in color and smooth to the touch. Holding it up high with one hand, Hermoine ran her other hand over it. Almost immediately the object separated into two smooth pieces, each as soft as silk.

"Silk stockings…"

To be continued…


	4. In Love With Draco!

My Ferret 4

"Silk stockings…"

Hermione stared at the long stockings in utter surprise, her mouth forming an O as her bottom lip dropped slightly. Her chocolate eyes shifted to the white ferret, it's tiny head poking out of the drawer. It was standing there staring right up at her face, an unusual intense look in its silver eyes and she felt the urge to hide the stockings behind her back in embarrassment. For some crazy reason she felt it had pulled them out of the back of the drawer on purpose, as if it had understood what she had been talking about…

/But that's crazy. It's just a ferret!./

Yes, it _was_ just a ferret, wasn't it? Just because it was a _male_ ferret didn't mean she need be embarrassed of holding silk stockings in front of it. Of course, if it had been Harry or Ron she would have been mortified beyond all reason. She was just a late bloomer, that's all. This whole thing of being in love was still very new to her and although she knew some girls at Hogwarts wouldn't blink an eye if a boy saw their unmentionables lying about, she wasn't one of them; unmentionables being panties and bras, of course. Her parents had old-fashioned values and they had raised her that way. Still, these were stockings and weren't all that different from socks, were they? The line there was kind of hazy…

Then Hermione remembered an old fantasy movie she had seen on TV years ago, _Beastmaster_. There had been two ferrets in there and they had helped the warrior Dar by getting items for him. They would run up to what he needed and carry or drag it in their mouths. Apparently stealing things came naturally to ferrets, so maybe it wasn't all that strange this one had pulled stockings from her drawer? Feeling slightly better, Hermione smiled down at her new pet. "So, do you think Draco would like me wearing these? I'm not sure I have anything to go with them though…"

000

/Draco? What do you mean Draco? You can't mean ME, do you?./

The blonde Slytherin turned ferret was shocked to say the least and he just gaped up at her, his bottom jaw dropping open all the way. He couldn't believe it, he just couldn't. Hermione Granger was in love with _him_? How could this be? It was too good to be true!

But it was. No one else had his very unique name, he was sure of that. Besides, all the other clues fit. A warm fuzzy feeling filled his body and he practically glowed with happiness. In all of his life he had never felt this way before, not even once. Granger … no, HERMIONE, really cared about him and this was proof. She wasn't making some grand speech because that old crazy fool had told her to or reciting something to get him to change sides. No, she didn't even know he was here. What was coming out of her mouth was genuine, her true feelings. The Gryffindor was actually concerned about his welfare and his future, enough that she was willing to do things she found incredibly hard just to save him.

And that spoke volumes.

/I'm never going to call her that awful name again!./

And maybe, just maybe he and Hermione would be a good match. Both of them were intellectuals and got top grades, although she always beat him somehow. He was the handsomest boy and she the prettiest girl, when she made the effort that is. His silvery eyes focused on her, studying her with a more critical eye. Without the baggy Hogwarts robe, he could see her slightly better. Although he found the Muggle clothes distasteful, he could appreciate how the jeans hugged her hips and the T-shirt fitted her. Her clothes weren't tight, no, but if he looked closely he could discern her figure. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine her dressed in one of his mother's expensive gowns with her hair done up in a French Twist. A little sound escaped him throat as he came to the conclusion that she would look absolutely stunning. And when she grew slightly older…

/She'll be absolutely breathtaking!./

Opening his eyes, Draco smirked. Hermione would be his and no one could stop him, not even Potter and Weasley. Best of all, it would be their entire fault!

000

Hermione lay the silk stocking on her bed, her mind going over the contents of her closet. There _had_ to be something she could wear with them, but what? Then she remembered the dress she had bought on a whim a few months ago back during Christmas break. She had found it in an upscale Muggle store and had been shocked seeing it hanging on the rack as it was nothing like its fellows. She wasn't sure if it had gotten into that store by mistake or what, but she had reached for it with held breath. Her hands had trembled as they touched the soft velvet for the first time, the material the deepest burgundy imaginable. As if in a trance, she had walked to the booth to try the dress on, sure it wouldn't fit. But it had and just looking at herself in the full-length mirror had been like gazing at someone else. Surely that couldn't be _her_, could it?

The dress was like something out of a different century. It had a tucked bodice that clung to her bust, waist and hips without seeming vulgar; the thick skirt falling in smooth lines to the floor. The upper parts of the sleeves were puffed, the puffed section ending halfway between her shoulder and elbow. The rest of the long sleeves gripped her arms tightly all the way to her hands, the cuffs pointed so the velvet extended to her first finger joints. It also had a gently scooped neckline. All in all, it was something directly out of Regency England and wearing it made her feel like a romantic heroine. She could just imagine a brave hero riding up to her on a white charger, bold and brave.

The price had been a bit steep and she had stood there in the store undecided for a good half hour, arguing with herself. The practical part of her kept insisting it was silly to splurge on such a useless thing. Where would she wear it? She had wanted to say the Yule Ball that occurred every year for the older students just before most of them left the school for the holidays, but she knew to wear something so _different_ from the others girls, well, it would take a lot of guts. And she wasn't sure if she had that within her. Besides, the Ball had already gone through for that year. Still, she loved the dress and how it made her feel. Finally, in a moment of extreme weakness, she had carried it to the checkout and had bought it. And there it had hung in her closet until now, covered carefully in a dry-cleaners bag to keep it clean.

/Maybe I could wear it _this_ year at the Ball…/

The dress would be the perfect thing to get Draco's attention. And maybe they would have a Harvest Ball if she were lucky, the rich color going perfectly with fall or winter.

/But maybe I need to practice being feminine…/

Yes, that would be a good idea. If she wanted to capture his heart, a little practice was in order. Best of all, she had all summer to practice and with luck, when the time came to return to Platform 9 ¾ she'd be ready! Hermione glanced at her wristwatch and sighed. It was late and she needed to get some sleep. She would start practicing tomorrow first thing! Going to her dresser, she pulled open another drawer and took a pair of plaid pajamas out of them. The nightclothes in hand, she paused, her chocolate eyes drifting to the ferret. Its silvery eyes were on her again and a little nervous feeling bubbled in her stomach. A slight frown creased her face as she continued to study it. For some unknown reason she felt funny about changing in front of it and she couldn't figure out why. Crookshanks had never bothered her before…

Shrugging her shoulders, Hermione headed into the bathroom to change.

000

Draco watched her leave, feeling both relieved and disappointed; relieved because he knew it wouldn't be right to watch her and disappointed because he was a healthy young male. Still, common sense won out. He wasn't a peeping tom and wouldn't spoil his reputation by being one. Women should be respected and not treated as sex objects, no matter what some brain dead men thought.

A few moments later Hermione returned and picked him up from the drawer. Cradling him against her chest again, she carried him to her bed and climbed in. A moment later he was set down on her bed next to her, near the pillow. The pajamas, he noticed, covered every inch of skin except for her feet and were very boyish. They were a tad disheartening, to be the truth, yet exactly what he expected from a bookworm. Still, he knew she could always change just for him and that gave him hope for the future.

"You can sleep here with me, OK? But you best stay in the room unless you want my cat to get you…"

/Sleep with…/

Draco's tiny heart beat rapidly in his chest at those innocent words. His busy-haired Gryffindor still didn't know who he truly was and thought he was a ferret – yet she had changed clothes in the other room, probably a bathroom. Curling up on the soft yet firm mattress, Draco watched her for a moment. She lay on her side facing him, one arm stretched out in front and the other curled up against her chest. Her wavy hair was pushed behind her head and spread out across her pale pink pillowcase. This situation, as innocent as it seemed, had all sorts of problems; the main one being what will she do when she finds out the truth?

/Oh Merlin! I'll be in hot water for sure!./

She'd be mortified that she had actually spent the night with him, even if he had been a ferret! He could imagine it all too well. She might even blame it all on him! What to do? Then Draco suddenly remembered the ring his Father had given him a few years ago. It was incredibly fancy and expensive, made of silver and shaped like a snake's head. It even had two tiny emeralds as eyes. Crabbe and Goyle had received one, too, and they had been extremely grateful for the gift. But the ring was far more than a piece of jewelry; it was a tracking device.

/Father will no doubt be remembering about it any minute…/

Being as wealthy as they were, kidnapping had been a concern for his parents. Not that they ever considered the possibility very seriously, but with things heating up since Voldemort's return, well, it was better to be safe than sorry. Lucius always tried to see every possible angle on things and planned accordingly. Draco's gray eyes drifted down to his tiny white paw, sure the ring was still there somewhere. When Moody had changed him, his clothes had transformed with him, reappearing when the spell had been lifted. So the ring was most likely there and working under the fur. He expected that both of his parents had been shocked and not thinking too clearly upon finding him missing. Like most parents, they would have panicked. But by now…

/Father most likely has come to his senses by now and will be using the ring to track me down…/

His silvery-gray eyes flickered to the sleeping girl, her chest slowly rising and falling with each gentle breath. What would happen to Granger when his father showed up? He hoped that he wouldn't hurt her. She was, after all, innocent in the matter. Lucius did have a bad temper at times and could fly off the handle, flinging curses. Still, he hoped that Granger wouldn't get hurt or try something foolish.

/I'll just have to protect her…/

Yes, once he was changed back to his proper form he'd explain what had happened to his father. He would sing her praises and maybe, just maybe he'd be allowed to date her.

/Yeah. Right. When cats learn to fly…/

Still, he could dream, couldn't he?

Tired from a busy and stressful day, Draco curled his long furry body into a tight ball and drifted off to sleep.

000

Hermione stepped into the Great Hall, a gasp of wonderment escaping her painted red lips. The huge room was decorated for the Yule Ball and had been turned into an enchanted wonderland. Twirling snowflakes slowly drifted down from the dark sky above and the walls glistened with layer upon layer of shiny ice. The ice reminded her of frozen waterfalls, the surfaces rippled and reflecting a rainbow of colors. Huge towering pine trees, dusted with freshly fallen snow, stood along the walls adding to the outside feeling without having the artic cold. This truly was the best of both worlds and she was lucky enough to experience it first hand.

Smiling, she turned to the handsome boy who was her escort to the dance. It was none other than Draco Malfoy and she couldn't believe that he, the most eligible bachelor in the entire school, had asked her out. This was the most perfect night of her whole life and her heart beat quickly within her chest. She was afraid to close her eyes for a single second lest she miss something. Her hand clung to his arm, as was the old custom. Gently he led her out onto the dance floor as tiny winter faeries darted through the air around them, each faerie a whitish-blue dot of light. His platinum blonde hair gleamed smoothly and hung into his silvery eyes. Those eyes could mesmerize her with a single look and often did just that. At the moment he was gazing adoringly at her with love in his eyes and her heart fluttered. Draco looked especially handsome in his formal dress robes, his starched white shirt and black robe. He was the most dashing figure there, the one that all the girls dreamed of and he was _hers_. His pale hand gripped her waist firmly, his other hand interlocking their fingers together. Shyly, she placed her free hand up on her shoulder. She could feel his body heat soaking into her waist where he held her. Lifting her eyes to gaze into his magical silver orbs, he began to lead her expertly around the room in a waltz.

She was wearing her burgundy dress and she could feel the admiring eyes of her classmates on her. Her fellow Gryffindors had oohed and aahed when she had emerged wearing it, most exclaiming where she had gotten it. Deep red matching ribbons intertwined with her brown curls, the long twirled ribbons falling down her back. It had taken hours to get ready, but seeing the enchanted look on Draco's face had been worth it. The gown swooshed around her legs elegantly with each step and she felt like a princess.

The soft music came to an end and he leaned closer. She knew he was going to kiss her and her heart sped up with excitement. This was it, the moment she had dreamed of for so many months! His eyes sparkled with merriment and then his lips were upon hers, soft and warm. Hermione closed her eyes and kissed him back, a warm tingle spreading through her entire body. She felt his arms wrap around her back, bringing her in closer to him. It was her first kiss and it was pure magic.

000

Hermione blinked, opening her eyes. She was lying in bed, a bright beam of summer sunshine falling on her face. A smile crept across her face as she remembered her dream. It had been so _real_. She remembered the kiss and blushed slightly. Would something like that ever happen for real? She didn't know but she hoped so! Then she remembered her plan from the night before and leaped out of bed with excitement. Her whole body felt energized and ready to go. Pulling clean clothes out of her closet and drawers, she dashed into the shower to get ready.

/Today I'll practice being more feminine../

She didn't know if she could actually _do_ it, but she would try. The dream had been so real that she half expected to see snow outside even though it was June. Her chocolate eyes fell on the bottle of her mother's bubble bath, a gift from some friend at work. Her mother barely ever touched the stuff, claiming it took too long to take a bubble bath and why bother? If wasn't like she and her father ever went anywhere romantic. Mostly they just went in to the dentist office together and spent the day staring into people's mouths. How exciting.

/Maybe I should take a bubble bath…/

"Honey!" Her mother's voice called from in the hallway. "Your father and I are going grocery shopping and then to the video store! We'll be back in a few hours, OK?"

"Mom! Can I use some of your bubble bath?" Hermione asked as she stared at the bottle's label, reading the directions. It was Lavender Bouquet according to the label and she twisted the cover off, sniffing. A heavenly scent filled her nose and she smiled, closing her eyes in delight.

"Of course, dear! Help yourself." Her mother replied. "We're going now…"

"OK!" Hermoine poured some of the pale purple liquid into the running bath and watched the bubbles form. Soon the enticing scent filled the entire bathroom making it smell like a garden. When it was ready, Hermione crawled in and sighed. She had never done this before and now she pondered why. The other girls at school were always talking about taking such baths when they had the time and about the various scents they had bought. But relaxing in the hot water with layer upon layer of bubbles almost all the way to her chin, she knew. It was so soothing…

/But at Hogwarts I just don't have time for such things…/

She had assignments to do, homework, books to read, running around with Harry and Ron…

/But what about the future?./

Presuming that Harry would successfully destroy Voldemort once and for all, and then what would happen? She hadn't missed the way that Harry looked at Ron's little sister, Ginny. Most likely the two would become a couple and might even marry. She knew that her dark-haired friend certainly liked the Weasleys enough… The Weasleys … what was she _thinking_? She was angry with Harry and Ron! The bubble bath must have been _too_ relaxing and she had forgotten! Still, her line of thought hadn't been that far off. Whether she stayed angry with them or eventually forgave them didn't matter. This would be their last year at Hogwarts and things would change afterwards. Most likely they'd all go off in different directions and if she weren't planning ahead she'd be left all alone. Harry and Ginny, Ron had been eying Cho… She didn't want to spend the rest of her life alone and if she didn't get into the habit of dating now and being seen as someone a bit desirable…

/I'll be single for the rest of my life, just like that batty old teacher had said!./

Trelawney's words had hit closer to the mark than she would have liked… old maid indeed!

Feeling the sand slipping through the hourglass, Hermione crawled out of the bath and took a quick shower to get all the excess soap off. Then she dried herself with a big fluffy towel and pulled on fresh underclothes. Lifting an arm, she sniffed at it, curious if the lavender scent would still be there. It was silly and she felt supremely stupid doing so, but she was a bookworm and had no experience with this sort of thing. A faint scent filled her nose and she grinned. At least her time hadn't been completely wasted. If the flowery scent had been totally gone then she would have thought it a waste. She was just glad that she was safe in the bathroom and no one had witnessed her moment of idiocy.

/I suppose I should get on with it…/

Yes, she needed to practice more, although the bath had been a good start. Her mind drifted to the burgundy dress in her closet and she really wanted to try it on again. Surely it couldn't hurt just wearing it for a short time and admiring herself in the mirror, even if she had no where to go in it. She very rarely ever did anything of the sort so this little indulgence couldn't hurt, could it?

/I can't spend all my time reading books…/

And so Hermione left the bathroom and entered her room, unaware that a pair of silvery eyes was staring at her, mouth hanging agape. She was so intent on getting the lovely dress on once more that she had totally forgotten about the little white ferret.

000

Draco gasped. Being the Pureblood that he was, he was accustomed to seeing girls and women wearing, well, _clothes_. And although Hermione was decently covered, her current 'outfit' had more in common with a bikini than the long dresses he was used to seeing on his mother. The truth was, Draco had never even _heard_ of a bikini before and if he were to ever stumble upon a Muggle beach by accident, he would most likely faint from the shock of seeing so much bare skin. His silvery eyes were practically glued to her form as she went to her wardrobe and pulled something out. It was covered in some sort of covering and once it was removed he dully noted that it was burgundy.

/I never dreamed Granger had such a body…/

And her mind wasn't bad, either. She was, in fact, smarter than he was. He remembered his resolution from last night, the one about saving her from his angry father. Yes, he would do that and hopefully a bit more. It would be nice to have a girlfriend his last year of school. His ferret lips curled upward in a grin.

/Besides, I'd love to see the shocked looks on Potter and Weasley's face when they find out!./

The thought pleased him to no end. Potter beat him at _everything_. The dark-haired boy received more attention, was fussed over, always caught the snitch … it was downright sickening! But if he could sneak Granger out from under his nose…

/That is, if Father will let me…/

That, of course, was the sticking point. No doubt his old man expected him to date another Pureblood like Pansy. Uggh! Was there any way at all he could convince him otherwise or was it a hopeless case? And no matter how much Lucius hated Potter, he wouldn't let his only son date Potter's friend just to spite the boy.

/I have to think of something!./

Draco continued goggling at Hermione and his eyes became partly glazed. Thinking of a plan was growing harder and harder…

000

Hermione sat on her bed, one knee over the other. She had the round container of powder in her hand and cautiously lifted off the lid. As she did so, a light layer of white powdery dust sprayed out and the scent of flowers filled the air. It smelled like roses and the bushy-haired girl smiled at the delightful scent that drifted around her in the air.

/So this is what Paris smells like in spring…/

This was the first time she had ever opened the cardboard container, as before she had just admired the artwork on the cover. Her chocolate eyes stared down into the container and a slight frown marred her face. The puff was sitting there staring up at her, white powder just beneath it. The thing is, she was still unsure on how to use it. Carefully gripping the soft puff with her thumb and forefinger, she lifted it up. The powder looked awfully white to her, almost like chalk dust. If she puffed this white powder on her face, wouldn't she look, well, weird? She could imagine all too well how she'd look, white-faced like a clown. Even Draco didn't have skin this pale…

Her frown increased as she thought back over what little she knew about make-up. Occasionally during the summer when she had gone into public restrooms, like at a theatre or restaurant, she had seen Muggle women touching their faces up. They had seemed to have huge budging purses filled with all sorts of make-up, as if they couldn't live without the stuff. The powder, she remembered, came in little round compacts with hinged lids or more recently in bottles.

/But it didn't smell like this…/

As far as she recalled, their powder hadn't smelled at all…

Confused, Hermione carefully lifted the tiny container up and peered at the bottom. To her utter surprise, printed words were there. Carefully placing the lid on again, the lid smoothly sliding over the entire box to the very bottom so no powder could escape, she flipped it over and started to read.

Spring in Paris Poudre de Toilette: an utter delight for silky smooth skin and perfumed body, this dusting powder will leave you glowing. To use, simply rub a generous amount into your dry skin after a bath to leave you smelling fresh all day.

Hermione mouthed the words, her eyes widening in surprise. "It's a deodorant?"

000

/I didn't know it was a deodorant…/

Draco shrugged his little ferret shoulders. His mother had so much stuff sitting on her vanity table that he never really paid that much attention. Why should he? He was a boy and he wore the best men's cologne. He had just presumed because it was a powder that it was applied to the face, hmm… apparently not. If he was to be truthful with himself, he was enjoying watching Hermione sitting on her bed. He could see her legs really well from where he rested on the mattress. They seemed incredibly long and went on forever. Of course, that was due to his much smaller body mass…

He watched her reopen the box, powder flying out into the air around her. Some of it landed on him and he sneezed loudly, the fine dust getting into his nose. Silver eyes locked on her, he scrutinized her every move avidly. With a look of trepidation on her face, she gripped the puff and picked it up. Turning it over, she noted that it was covered in a fine layer of the perfumed powder. Then with pursed lips, she started to rub the puff lightly on her upper leg very lightly.

Draco sneered and started laughing ferret style, a weird sound coming from his lips. He supposed it should be sexy watching her put the powder on, but that look on her face!

/It's not going to bite you, Granger!./

000

Hermione sighed. The powdering was going a bit better than she had expected and she thought she had the hang of it by now. At first she had been extremely nervous and unsure. It had felt odd rubbing the puff on her skin, the powder feeling cool and silky. She had just used the regular under-arm deodorant stick and had presumed it was good enough, but this wasn't all that bad.

/I could do this at school…/

It wouldn't take all that much time, either. And it smelled heavenly. Finished, she stood and went to pick up the silk stockings. If she was going to practice dressing up, she might as well go all the way. Pulling them on was easy enough, the long stockings reaching up all the way to her thighs. She glanced down at them, biting her bottom lip. What was supposed to hold them up? She was pretty sure if she started walking any distance, they'd start drooping and slide down her legs! The thought of that happening when someone was around, well, it was horrifying! These days Muggle women avoided that problem by wearing pantyhose, but silk stockings were _not_ pantyhose. Her face took on a bookish look as she thought over what she knew…

/Oh! They used to wear garter belts!./

Going to her dresser draw, she pulled it open all the way and dug around in the very back. She remembered her mother saying years ago if she was going to keep the stockings, she might as well keep that odd belt, too. Now where was the thing? With triumph she yanked it out and quickly put it on, the thing hugging her stomach tightly. It had metal clips that worked like a clothespin. They hung down on bits of elastic and clipped onto the upper hem of the stockings. Smiling, Hermione picked the burgundy dress off the chair back where she had it draped and pulled it on. Smoothing it down, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Realizing she was still just in her stockings, she pulled a pair of black, low-heel shoes from within her wardrobe. Slipping them onto her feet, she grinned at her reflection.

000

Draco gawked open-mouthed at the Gryffindor. She looked ravishing! And that dress… where did she get it? It was the last thing he had expected a Mudb… no, a Muggle-born to own! Only Purebloods dressed that way these days, the kids from Muggle families more interested in modern stuff.

/Hermione could fit right into the family dressed like that…/

Yes, he could easily imagine her strolling down the hallways of the Manor on his arm as he escorted her out into the courtyard.

000

Hermione was just reaching up to do something about her hair when she heard an unexpected sound: the doorbell. Eyeing her reflection in the mirror, she frowned slightly and lowered her hands. She didn't exactly relish the idea of answering the front door dressed like this. Most likely it was a Muggle, as her wizard and witch friends never visited at her house. How would she explain why she was dressed like this? It was very old-fashioned compared to these days and truthfully she never saw _anyone_ dress like this in real life except in movies. She contemplated just ignoring the bell but what if it were something important? Maybe her parents had ordered something through the mail and it was a deliveryman requiring a signature? Letting a breath escape her lips, she sighed and turned to the ferret. "I guess I have to answer the door…"

The loud ringing echoed throughout the house again and she picked the little animal up, placing it on her shoulder. Leaving her room, she walked down the hallway towards the stairs. Then she gripped her dress and lifted the skirt daintily as she went down the steps. Whoever it was, he was apparently getting impatient as the bell rang yet again.

/Maybe I can say I'm in a stage play…/

Although Hermione hated to lie, sometimes she found it necessary. She certainly couldn't tell a Muggle the truth! Not only would that be breaking the major rule of the Wizarding World but they wouldn't understand what a Pureblood was, anyway. She might as well try to tell them that elves and magic were real. They'd just look at her like she was nuts anyway, so lying it would be.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" Hermione called out as she neared the door, her shoes clicking on the floor with each step. Her stomach bubbled nervously as the idea of someone seeing her like this…

/I just hope it's not one of the neighbors! Oh, why doesn't this door have a peephole/

Unfortunately, her dentist parents had never saw the use for one and so she'd have to open it to see who it was. The ferret balanced on her shoulder, she gripped the doorknob and turned, pulling the inner door open. Her eyes widened in shock when they fell on not a Muggle as she had expected but a wizard robed in black; a wizard in fact she had seen just last evening at the train station.

/Why the heck is Lucius Malfoy standing on my front porch!./

Upon the door swinging open, Lucius' gray eyes opened wide in surprise, too, as he took in how she was dressed. He gaped open-mouthed at her dumbly for a few moments. The very last thing he had expected was to discover a well-known Mudblood dressed like a noble Pureblood lady!

Hermione's mind quickly got over the unexpected shock and she started to realize what it meant.

/There's a Death Eater on my porch and I dumbly left my wand upstairs!./

Great, that was just great! Her chocolate eyes flickered to his flashy silver-headed walking stick and her stomach did an uncomfortable jolt. _He_ certainly hadn't been that stupid! From what Harry told her Second Year, she knew Lucius kept his wand inside the walking stick and so was armed at all times. "Well, what do you want?"

"I've come for my son." He stated.

To be continued…

Author's Note: Thanks for the great reviews! I wanted to work in a scene where Lucius confronts Ron (or Harry & Ron) but that really wouldn't work into the plot. I _could_ work it in after Draco tells his father what happened though. I also hope no one is upset that Draco the ferret was in Hermione's room while she was getting dressed. He IS, after all, just a ferret.


	5. The Truth Revealed

My Ferret 5

Author's Note: There has been a bit of confusion about the dress Hermione is wearing, so to solve it I have posted a link to the dress on my Profile Page. I'm not an expert on clothes and since this isn't really a historical romance story, I didn't research the dress. I did, however, get it out of a catalog. That catalog has a website and you can see the dress there if you wish to. The dress was described (in the catalog) as 'Regency Revival' and I shortened that to just Regency. Perhaps there's a difference between the two.Also I tried several times last night to upload this chapter and it just wouldn't upload for some reason. It finnaly did so here it is...

"I've come for my son." He stated.

"What?" Hermione asked, totally surprised. It was the very last thing she had expected the Death Eater to say and it threw her for a loop. Her dark brows knitted together in confusion. Why in the world was he looking for Draco here? This was a Muggle home or did he forget that? Draco should have gone home with his parents last night just like all the other students had. Yet Lucius was on her front porch in his fine dark robes glinting with silver decorations.

/Draco isn't here, unless…/

Cold dread solidified in her stomach as a horrifying thought suddenly occurred to her. But no, it was impossible!

"I said I'm looking for Draco. The spell I performed said he's here." Lucius stated calmly, his cold gray eyes staring into hers. Boldly stepping forward, the dark wizard used his snake-headed walking stick to brush her aside. Walking past her, he entered the living room and curiously stared around. Many of the room's objects, such as the TV, were unknown to him yet he ignored them as they were of no interest. Turning on his heel, his long cloak swirling out behind him, he faced her. He allowed his walking stick to slide freely through his hand until the silver tip struck the floor with a loud thud. "I do not appreciate being lied to, Miss Granger. My son is here and you will turn him over to me. If you do so, perhaps I shall overlook this little act of kidnapping and not report it to the aurors working on the case."

The ferret on her shoulder squealed loudly and started running down her arm, its tiny claws digging into the soft velvet. Acting quickly, the nervous feeling growing rapidly in her stomach, Hermione caught the ferret with her other hand. Gripping it around the middle with both hands, she slowly raised it upward so its tiny face was in front of hers. She didn't want to even think it, but think it she did. Those silvery gray eyes had reminded her of Draco and for a very good reason…

/Please, don't let this ferret be Draco!./

The thought was too horrible to contemplate. And as impossible as it may seem to a Muggle, Hermione knew it was very possible. Wizards had the ability to change into animals, the best example being Professor McGonagall into a striped tabby cat. And Draco, Draco had been turned into a ferret Fourth Year by Moody…

To Hermione's horror, the white ferret seemed to sneer at her!

/No! No! NO!./

Lucius tapped his foot on the floor impatiently. "I have no idea why you're playing with that animal instead of handing over my son, but I suggest you kindly stop this instant and obey my wishes."

"Here!" Hermione shoved the ferret at him, pushing it against his chest. It instantly dug its little claws into Lucius' dark shirt. "Here's your son!"

Hermione quickly stepped backward, her long dress brushing against the floor. Her heart pounded quickly in her chest and she felt her palms grow wet from sweat. She dreaded the next moment and fervently wished she could sink through the floorboards and just disappear. Her heart knew now without a doubt that the ferret was indeed none other than the famous Draco Malfoy and she had foolishly spilled her heart to him last night. Any moment his father would change him back into himself and then he'd sneer at her! She had honestly bared her heart to what she had thought was a soft, cuddly little animal and he's use it against her, laugh at her! If only she had known! But she hadn't! And he knew everything! How could she live after this?

/Oh, I wish I could just die!./

"What?" Lucius instinctively grabbed at the animal that clung desperately to his fine silk shirt, his free hand supporting its weight. The last thing he desired was for some rodent to tear his expensive shirt. Pulling it free, he held it in his black-gloved hand, noticing the unique gray eyes it had. One dark brow shot upward in surprise as he accepted the facts. Placing it on the floor gently, he pulled his wand free and spoke the words to end the spell. "Finite Incantatem!"

000

Instantly the white ferret changed into the blonde Slytherin. Draco was kneeling on the floor on all fours and he quickly straightened himself up, climbing to his feet. Brushing invisible bits of dust off his black school robes, he looked up at Lucius. "Thank you, Father. Granger here had nothing to do with it. Potter and Weasley turned me into the ferret and she saved me. That stupid weasel wanted to toss me out the train window…"

"WHAT?" Lucius howled in outrage, his face twisting up in anger. The loud cry bounced off the ceiling and echoed around the room. The Death Eater couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, you heard right." Draco drawled, knowing he had to set the matter straight from the beginning. The last thing he wanted was for his father to blame this on his savior. "I suppose that red-headed git thought it was funny, but Hermione saved me. I did bite Weasley, though. Last I saw him that bite looked infected, too. He deserved it, you know."

"He deserves far worst…" Lucius commented darkly. It was illegal to use transfiguration spells on others for fun, as Weasley and Potter knew. And if he got his way, which he most likely would, they wouldn't be getting away with it this time. Over the years he had heard story after story from his son on what the famous trio got away with thanks to that bumbling idiot of a Headmaster. This time, however, it appeared that Miss Granger had been innocent and had in fact saved his son. Realizing he owed her a debt of gratitude, he turned to thank her only to find her standing red-faced glaring at his son.

000

"How dare you sneak into my bedroom like that, you … you … FERRET!" Hermione wailed, embarrassed beyond belief. She felt blazing heat fill her face and she knew that she must be as red as a tomato. Her hands clenched into fists and she glared at him, her body held stiffly. "I spent the night with you!"

Hermione was so embarrassed that she could no longer think straight. Nor did she care that his father, a known Death Eater, was right there listening to every word.

Draco's gray eyes widened for a moment in fear and she could see him gulp nervously, the bump in his throat moving. His platinum blonde hair hung in his eyes and he looked very adorable. Then a hesitant smile appeared on his face and he stepped closer to her. "And you confessed your undying love for me."

/Oh no! He understood every word I said!./

Fresh horror swept through her body. She had strongly suspected that he'd understand but to actually _know_ it for a fact. She hadn't actively read any books on human transfigurations, not seriously, that is. Yes, she had looked up the basics; that one had to be registered and all but … this was far worst than she had feared! "You weren't supposed to hear that!"

After the words were out of her mouth, she cringed. It sounded so utterly stupid!

The smile stayed on his face though and he stepped closer. Her heart pounded viciously in her chest cavity and she thought that it would burst any minute. Her palms stung from where her fingernails were biting into the tender flesh but she barely noticed. The air seemed to lack enough oxygen, the tight dress squeezing her ribcage and stomach. Before it had felt wonderful but now it felt to be very constricting, like a giant green boa tightening its deadly coils around her. Desperately she breathed in a big lungful of air, the perfume of the powder she had used filling her nose.

000

"But I did hear it." Draco replied, his voice uncertain. He knew Hermione must be incredibly mad at him and truthfully he didn't blame her. He knew she was embarrassed by the situation and he was slightly relieved that his father was there or he was sure she'd belt him across the face again. His eyes noted how her hands were balled into tight fists and he gulped again. Somehow he had to calm her down and convince her that it wasn't really that bad.

/But how am I going to do that?./

He really didn't know Hermione all that well, not as he should have. In the past he had been too busy calling her names and doing other equally stupid things. But now, now things were different. He was different. She had shown him the light and he had followed her. "Look, Hermione, I didn't do this on purpose. Weasley turned me into a ferret and there was nothing I could do. I know you're angry and you have a right to be, but I didn't see anything! Honest!"

/OK, so maybe that's a lie…./

Hermione's face darkened and she pointed a finger at his chest. "And what about this morning? I was in my UNDERWEAR!"

Draco gulped, his silver-gray eyes growing wide in alarm. "OK! So I saw that! I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

/Oh great! She's really going to kill me now!./

000

Hermione was humiliated beyond belief. It was just too horrible to imagine!

/Draco Malfoy saw me in my underwear!./

She'd never be able to show her face in public ever again! Her reputation was ruined, utterly RUINED!

"Hermione, I'm really sorry and I'll make it up to you somehow. I swear! You saved my life and I appreciate it…"

The bushy-haired Gryffindor blinked.

/Did he just call me Hermione?./

No, he couldn't have. Draco had always called her Granger or Mudblood.

/I must be so upset that I'm imagining things…/

Yes, that was it. One couldn't be expected to hear things correctly when they were so utterly embarrassed in front of the boy they loved, the boy who had seen them improperly dressed! Hermione returned her attention to Draco and noticed he had an uncertain smile on his face, just the very corners of his mouth turned slightly upward. The normal sneer he favored at school was nowhere in sight. Nor was he acting like his usual arrogant self or making rude comments about her underwear, like she was certain he would have. Then it dawned in her head what he had said, that she had saved his life. Could it be he actually meant it?

/Maybe he does mean it…/

She had suspected that Draco wasn't Death Eater material, but this was the first time she had seen solid proof. He was presented with the perfect opportunity to shame her and ridicule her and here he was ignoring it! Instead he was doing everything to calm her down, although a bit nervously if she wasn't mistaken. She had seen the fear in his eyes, the uncertainty. Slowly her hands unclenched and she winched slightly in pain, her palms throbbing with the quick beat of her heart. Maybe there really was hope for him yet…

/I did save his life, didn't I?./

And she had done it all by herself, too!

/I'm a hero!./

The thought that she had done it all by herself without the help of her Harry or Ron was startling. Normally she relied on them and they relied on her. Generally that worked very well, although they received most of the credit. Still, she had not only saved Draco but had stood up to her two friends as well. A lot of people might look the other way or turn a blind eye when their friends did things they didn't approve of just to keep the peace, but she had stuck to her beliefs. True, she may have lost their friendship now, but who wanted to be friends with people that did things like that in the first place? A warm glow filled her and she felt her anger melt away. Only some of the shame remained now and she nervously lowered her lashes, staring at the floor. She couldn't stand to look at him now. Those powerful silver eyes of his seemed to know too much and they did. How could she ever stand to face him ever again knowing she had not only slept in the same bed he had but had walked around in front of him in her underwear? Rationally, Hermione knew many women wore far less in front of men at the beach and she supposed it maybe wasn't all that bad, but she wasn't other women. She was a bookworm and the thought was just horrendous.

000

Draco's heart leaped slightly when he saw the anger leave her.

/It's working…/

For a moment he just stared at her, admiring her beauty. He still couldn't believe she had gone through all this trouble dressing up for him. It was so sweet and endearing, to know that she honestly cared that much about him. No one outside his parents had ever cared that much. It was no secret that Pansy just hung around him for his money, but the Gryffindor hadn't mentioned his fortune not once. No, she had talked of saving him from becoming a Death Eater and that was noble.

His stomach flipping nervously, Draco stepped closer. He very much wanted to reach out and lift her chin so he could stare into those big soulful eyes she had. Unlike the Slytherins who hid their emotions well behind masks, all of her feelings were right there in her eyes. And once he saw her eyes again, he wanted to lean closer and kiss her.

/Do I really want to do that?./

Truth be told, Draco had never kissed a girl before, either and the thought made him incredibly nervous. Although he already knew she was in love with him, the knowledge didn't make the task any easier. She could very well still be emotional and it was uncertain how she would react. Nor did he forget the other factor…

/Dear old Father is watching…/

Did he really dare kiss a Muggle-born in front of his father? If he did, how would he react? So far Lucius has remained silent throughout the entire exchange, no doubt surprised by the admissions on both sides. If he were lucky, he wouldn't get punished at all. If he were extremely lucky, his father may let him date her. And if he were unlucky…

/I'd be punished for sure!./

Still, that was a risk he was willing to take. It was now or never. And if he let this golden opportunity pass him by, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. Now wasn't the time to get cold feet.

His heart beating faster, Draco stepped closer and lifted one pale hand towards her chin. His fingers touched her chin and he gently raised her head up so he could look into her chocolate eyes.

000

Hermione was shocked when she felt his fingers touch her chin, his fingertips warm and smooth. Slowly her head was lifted upward and she shyly stared into his silver eyes. In her entire life she had never seen or heard of anyone else with such eyes. They truly appeared magical, for what human had silver eyes? Now those same orbs were staring into hers and she felt her mouth go dry. He was staring into her eyes intently and she could feel the heat returning to her face. No one had ever looked at her like that before…

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are, Hermione?" He asked, his voice soft.

Dumbly she shook her head, disbelieving her ears. Surely Draco Malfoy didn't just say she was beautiful, did he?

/I must be dreaming all this!./

But she wasn't. She was wide-awake and standing in her Muggle living room wearing an old-fashioned dress. This was just too weird to be a dream.

"Well, you are. I thought so ever since Fourth Year and the Yule Ball." Draco admitted to her, a smile on his face. "You were the most beautiful girl there and I couldn't believe it. Yet it was true. And you look stunning right now."

Hermione felt herself blush at the words. No one had ever really complemented her like this before and coming from Draco of all people…

"I was and still amazed that you have such a beautiful dress. Not very many Muggle-borns appreciate the old ways. They only care about their modern gizmos…" Draco commented as he stepped closer to her. "But you could fit into our society, I think. And do you know what, Hermione?"

Her heart pounded like crazy and she felt like a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching semi-truck as he leaned in closer to her. There were just mere inches between them now and for some strange reason she felt faint. She wanted to blame it on the dress, on how it squeezed her middle but she knew it wasn't true. He leaned in closer yet, his head coming closer and closer.

/Oh my gosh! Is he going to kiss me?./

She felt his soft silky hair sweep against her cheek as he whispered in her ear.

"I love you, too, Hermione."

At those five simple words, Hermione's heart soared with happiness. What she had thought to be a real disaster had turned out to be the happiest day of her life! She felt him pull back slightly, his platinum hair once again grazing against her cheek. The sensation sent tingles throughout her body and she felt herself blush slightly. Now that she knew he felt the same way about her it wasn't so terribly bad to be embarrassed. But this was all still very new to her.

/And to think I owe this new happiness to the fact that I saved a ferret!./

She smiled happily at Draco, her joy reflecting in her eyes.

And then he leaned close again, his silver eyes searching hers. When he saw her joy echoing his own, he closed the distance and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm, the kiss gentle and light. Hermione felt heat and a pleasant tingle shoot throughout her body as she realized she was receiving her very first kiss and from none other than Draco Malfoy.

/He's kissing me!./

It was thrilling and everything she had hoped it to be. And just as quick as it had stared it was over. He pulled back and smiled at her shyly.

000

/I can't believe it! I actually kissed Hermione!./

Draco was ecstatic. He had actually done it!

But then a low voice broke his bubble of joy.

"This is all very _interesting_," Lucius stated from where he stood watching the two teens. "But in case you two forgot, I'm still here."

To be continued…

Sorry it's shorter than normal, but this seemed the natural place to end this chapter.


	6. Lucius

My Ferret 6

"This is all very _interesting_," Lucius stated from where he stood watching the two teens. "But in case you two forgot, I'm still here."

/Oh no! Father…/

Draco's heart skipped a beat and he hastily spun around to face the older wizard. Although it had seemed a good idea to kiss Hermione a moment ago, he really had been very foolish indeed. The act itself, not to mention his admission of love, could put her in great jeopardy. His father was a well-known supporter of Purebloods and would no doubt be furious that he had the gall to actually kiss someone of lesser blood. The strict, silver haired man knew thousands of curses and wouldn't hesitate at using them. Just because the Unforgivable Curses were the most famous didn't mean there weren't lesser ones just as nasty. Worst, Hermione was alone and without her wand.

/And I don't dare use mine against Father…/

Draco hated to admit it, but his skills were no match for Lucius. They had done practice duels before at the Manor and he had always lost. Not that his father had ever really hurt him. Contrary to what others thought of their relationship, he wasn't ever beat or physically abused. And the old Pureblood families often taught their children magic at home. Well, perhaps taught wasn't the right word. To them, magic was commonplace and they grew up knowing it existed as it was all around them. The No Magic At Home law was mainly put in place for witches or wizards who lived among Muggles. Not only was there the chance of Muggles seeing things they shouldn't but the chance for accidents were much larger. A Muggle-born wizard wouldn't have magic parents there to guide them and to supervise their activities. And thus the Malfoys weren't really under that rule, although he didn't dare try new spells without his father's supervision. More common spells, like flying his broomstick around the Manor grounds or producing a light at the tip of his wand, he was free to do. A nervous sweat broke out onto his skin and he could feel his joy drain away to be replaced by ice. His father was staring at the two of them, an unidentifiable expression on his face. There was no way to tell exactly how angry he really was. But the young Slytherin knew in his heart he must be.

"Draco, come here." Lucius simply ordered, his voice cool and low. His steel gray eyes gazed at the young couple steadily, his focus on them unwavering. The silver snakehead was firmly gripped by one black-gloved hand, the long wand free to use as required, the other half of his walking stick in the other hand. He looked very regal in his fine black clothing and cloak, his snowy white hair trailing down his back. Perhaps if he had been born a century earlier he would have been a viscount, earl or duke. As it was, he had enough nobility in his behavior and dress to be one. As for wealth, the Malfoys had plenty of that. It was no secret that Lucius Malfoy was the fifteenth richest man in the world.

"Yes, Father." With a final glance at Hermione, Draco bravely stepped up to his father with his stomach up in his throat. His nerves were screaming at him to run the other way but as a Malfoy he couldn't do that. If he wanted to be a man someday he needed to be brave. The distance between them shortened until it was gone and he slowly lifted his eyes to his father. He had to do this for Hermione.

"Tell me Draco, is what Miss Granger said true?" Lucius asked in a neutral voice that was not angry or glad. "Did you spend the night with her?"

Surprise shot through him rapidly followed by confusion.

/Why is he asking about that?./

He had been sure he would be called to task for kissing her just a moment ago or his hasty declaration of love. Yet his father didn't mention that at all. And that was reason to be nervous, very nervous. He heart pounded rapidly and he could feel himself blush. The way his father said it sounded almost as if he were implying something, as if the two of them had snuck off to snog somewhere and that just wasn't true. It was a simple mistake of identity is all and Draco quickly opened his mouth to clear up any misunderstanding. "Yes, Father, I did. But nothing _happened_. I was a ferret the entire time."

"That may be true, Draco." Lucius stated as he idly walked a circle around the younger blonde. "But I have no guarantee of that, do I? Finite Incantatem is a simple spell any First Year could do and I must consider the ramifications of such an act."

000

"Ramifications? What ramifications?" Hermione asked, perplexed. When Lucius had first ordered Draco forward she had been terrified that the young Slytherin was about to be punished. But now that didn't seem to be the case. Yet obviously _something_ was going on but what? Then a new thought popped into her head.

/What if Lucius thinks we _planned_ this?./

Hermione knew lots of her fellow classmates often snuck off to empty classrooms to snog and there had been a few rumors about the top of the astronomy tower as well. Not that she listened to such nonsense. But going to school with Lavender and Parvati you just couldn't help hearing things if you wanted to or not. And now it almost sounded as if he were suggesting that she was one of those brainless girls who thought of nothing but snogging! Anger began to build up within her and she tried to rein it in, as she knew it wouldn't be wise to make a known Death Eater angry. The situation was iffy the way it was with both of them in possible trouble. Still, it grew and red-hot heat shot through her veins and she felt her muscles trembling with the strain. "Are you suggesting we premeditated this just to snog? I assure you I would never do anything of the sort! This whole thing is nothing but a misunderstanding!"

Lucius blinked and then turned to face her. "I never suggested anything of the sort, Miss Granger, although I do apologize if it sounded that way."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock.

/Is he actually apologizing to _me_?./

The mere thought that Lucius Malfoy of all people would willingly apologize to a Muggle-born was astounding. In fact, it was darn right freaky! Hermione quickly shut her mouth with a soft snap and her chocolate brown eyes narrowed. It was clear he was up to something, but what? There was no limit to what he could do to them or just to her. What if more of his Death Eater buddies were outside? Would he try to kidnap her and use her to get at Harry? Yes! That made perfect sense! "Look, if this is all some scheme to get at Harry, it won't work! We had a fight if you must know and at this moment he doesn't care what happens to me I'm sure."

"Why, Miss Granger, you wound me with such harsh words." Lucius lifted a black-gloved hand to his chest and held it over his heart, a fake smile on his face. Allowing his hand to drop, he moved towards her smoothly. "No matter what you think of me, I assure you I'm not a monster nor do I harm children. In fact, I have _your_ honor in mind."

A frown crossed her face at his words. What did he mean, her honor? "Look, there's nothing wrong with my honor! As we both told you, nothing happened! So my honor is quite intact, thank you very much."

A dark brow rose. "Is that what you think?"

Hermione's lips tightened to a stiff line. "It's what I _know_."

"Tell me, Miss Granger, where are your parents?" Lucius asked as he stopped in front of her, taking the moment to place his wand back into the longer section of his walking stick. It clicked into place and he gripped it firmly in one hand, his gray eyes scrutinizing her from head to toe and back up again. His face was a mask, unreadable. Even his eyes gave no clue as to what he was feeling.

The bushy-haired Gryffindor backed up a few steps, her long burgundy dress swooshing faintly as she moved. She didn't like how he was looking at her, as if she was a horse at an auction or something. The fact that he had put his wand away was a slight relief, as it suggested he meant her no harm but she wasn't stupid enough to trust him. No, this was Lucius Malfoy. Perhaps he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security and then pull some fast trick. She wouldn't put it past him.

/I could run outside…/

The front door was just behind her, but the thought of more Death Eaters waiting out there made her pause. And then there were her shoes. She wouldn't get far in them. Perhaps some girls could run relatively well in these but she wasn't one of them. The number of times she had actually worn them could be counted on one hand and that wasn't counting her thumb. For all she knew if she attempted to make a break for it she'd slip or the shoes would fall off. And why did he want to know about her parents? The question bode ill and she fervently wished she had her wand. With it she had a chance to defend herself. She supposed if she grew desperate she could attempt kicking him or something, but the Death Eater was physically stronger and subduing her would be all too easy.

/I need to think of something!./

Her eyes fell on a nearby vase that sat on a small table nearby. Perhaps if she could get it…

"I have heard nothing but good about you, Miss Granger." Lucius stated as he started to move behind her, his steel gray eyes scanning her form. He scowled when his eyes landed on her thick bushy hair, the corners of his mouth turning downward in disapproval. "You are the top of your class and receive straight Os in all of your subjects, do you not? I understand you even surpass my son, not an easy feat for someone not born to the world of magic."

Hermione quickly turned around when he moved behind her.

/No! The door!./

She had hesitated too long and now the sneaky devil had cut off her exit!

000

/Why the heck is Father blabbing on about her grades?./

Draco frowned in puzzlement and his brow wrinkled. It made no sense whatsoever! Deciding he should support Hermione through whatever this was, Draco hurried to her side. He was relieved that Lucius had put his wand away, but there were always things he could do without it.

/Not to mention Father is a quick draw…/

The platinum blonde Slytherin knew from experience just how fast Lucius could pull the wand out of the walking stick. Many of their practice duels had involved draws and not once had Draco beat him. Reaching out, he gripped Hermione's hand in his own and gave a squeeze. The warmth from her hand soaked into his and he was slightly relieved to see that her palm was as wet as his own.

/So, even famous brave Gryffindors get scared and nervous. Interesting…/

He had always been so sure that nothing fazed the famous trio. He had heard of so many heroic acts, everything from Harry killing the basilisk to him facing Voldemort himself. The stories that circulated around school had left him not only feeling slightly jealous but also such a coward. He just couldn't understand how they could be so bloody brave! Did Gryffindors have different stuff in them that made them that way or what? Or were they just too stupid to be scared? But now apparently that wasn't true. Hermione's damp hand proved that beyond a doubt and it gave him a bit of bravery.

/Maybe I can be brave, too…/

Of course, he may get into more trouble but he just couldn't stand by and do nothing. If he did, what kind of man would he be? Well, technically he wasn't a man yet but it wasn't far off. There was just one year of school left and he wanted to spend that year with Hermione. But if his old man did something to her then he may very well loose that chance. "Look, Father. Hermione saved my life!"

"Yes, Draco." Lucius stated calmly as he eyed the two holding hands. "I'm very much aware of that fact and I'm very grateful."

"Then promise me you won't hurt her." Draco asked, his heart pounding within his chest. He could hear the loud beats in his ears, something that had happened to him only once before. It had been in Second Year when he had gone flying off his broom during the Quidditch game. He had been going so fast and then he was airborne, tumbling through the air without the aide of his Nimbus 2001. The ground had come rushing up at him all too fast and in his heart he knew he was going to die. His heart had pounded in his ears then as it was now, loud and fast like a giant drum. Until this day he still didn't understand how he had avoided breaking his neck when he had finally struck the hard ground, the green grass not doing much to soften the blow.

He was going out onto a limb and knew it.

Lucius smiled at the two. "Draco, do you trust me so little?"

The Slytherin hesitated, not clear on exactly how to answer that question. He _did_ trust his father in most things and it wasn't by accident that he imitated his behavior, but it was no secret how much Lucius loathed Muggle-borns, either. Taking a moment to arrange his thoughts into an orderly fashion, he stared boldly into the older man's eyes that were so much like his own. "Of course I trust you, Father. But it's no secret you don't like Muggle-borns, either. I just don't think she deserves to be hurt after saving my life from those two gits is all."

"And _that_, Draco, is exactly what I intend to do." Lucius mysteriously stated. "She saved you and now I intend to save her."

"Huh?" Draco gawked at his father, totally lost.

Lucius sighed loudly. "Have you forgotten _everything_ I've taught you, Draco?"

000

Hermione's stomach bubbled uncomfortably as if a nest of angry bees were buzzing about inside it. By now she had expected Lucius to drag Draco home but the older man showed no intentions of leaving at all and that bode ill. And for some odd reason he seemed to be concerned about her honor.

And her grades…

/Why? What is he planning?./

Not knowing was driving her into a nervous wreck! Grateful for Draco's support, she tightened her grip on his hand.

Glancing around the room, Lucius spotted the sofa against one wall and pointed at it with his walking stick. "Sit, the both of you."

Hermione glanced uncertainly at Draco and he shrugged, and then started pulling her towards the piece of furniture. She allowed herself to be pulled forward and further away from the front door and any possible escape it offered. Doubt danced in her head and heart. She just wasn't sure what she should do in a case like this. Lucius presented a threat but as of yet he wasn't doing anything very threatening.

/Perhaps he's just upset about us spending the night together. Maybe if I let him talk and get it off his shoulders he'll go away…/

Some people liked to rant and rave, others brooded in silence and who knows what Lucius did? Besides, her parents would be coming home sooner or later. The last thing she wanted was for them to run into the Death Eater. Who knew what he might do to Muggles? The mere thought was horrible and more than she could stand. For all she knew he may try to murder her poor parents! She reached the sofa and turned to sit. The cushion was soft underneath her but she didn't lean back against the soft support, choosing instead to sit on the edge. Her legs were pressed together firmly as she was wearing a dress and she wanted to demonstrate how lady-like she truly was. Her right hand was still clutched in his, their entangled fingers resting in the narrow space between them on the sofa.

"Draco, you know the numerous rules our family lives by; many of them considered old-fashioned and outdated." Lucius began as he stood before them. "However, _I_ don't consider them outdated at all but practical."

Hermione heard Draco gulp beside her. Tearing her eyes off the Death Eater for a moment, she was surprised to see how pale Draco looked, as if all the color had drained from his face.

/That doesn't bode well…./

"And as of now, the two of you have broken one of the most important rules." Lucius continued, his steel gray eyes flickering from one of them to the other. "I suppose, Miss Granger, you may find this rule shocking and perhaps even unfair, but I assure you it's in your best interest."

"But … but she's a Muggle-born!" Draco exclaimed from where he sat next to her, his grip on her hand tightening until it was almost painful. "I thought you _hated_ them!"

Hermione winched in pain and tried to pull her hand free of the blonde Slytherin but Draco's grip was like a vice. It was clear he had figured out what Lucius was referring to and hadn't bothered to inform her!

/The bloody ferret! Why doesn't he tell me!./

"It appears," Lucius stated dryly from where he stood. "That not all Muggle-borns are alike. It appears that this one is not only especially gifted with magic but also appreciates our life-style."

Lucius waved a black-gloved hand in her direction. "Notice her form of dress. It's clear she appreciates living life as it was meant to be, not all of this modern Muggle nonsense. My main gripe with Muggle-borns is not so much to do with blood but the things they bring with them. Generally, their magic is weak and they never gain a true understanding of our society. They are stuck between two worlds and can't fully appreciate either. There are numerous things that they'll never know no matter how hard they try because they weren't _born_ to it. But a much larger concern is the contamination they bring that weakens our society. Our numbers are limited the way it is, don't you agree, Draco?"

The platinum blonde nodded.

It was something even that Hermione understood and she nodded as well. Just a handful of Pureblood families left and from what she knew most of them were already related to each other, being cousins and such. If they interbred any further they risked running into serious problems.

"Muggles these days have no concept of decency." Lucius continued as he gazed at both of them. "They parade about in public practically naked and call it normal. And there are things far worst that they do. Many if not most of Muggle men see nothing wrong with _using_ a woman and then discarding her like a soiled hanky. In their society, the woman takes all the blame and in some cases is ostracized. Purebloods, however, do not live that way. We still have morals and common decency. If a Pureblood man ruins a woman's reputation, he will do the proper thing."

At those words an odd feeling started to grow inside Hermione, a cold dread.

/Surely he isn't suggesting that we…./

No! That was too absurd! It was just too crazy so Hermione attempted to dismiss the thought from her mind. Yet it refused to go and lurked in the back of her thoughts, threatening to leap out at her.

"Although born from Muggles, it's clear Miss Granger here does not share the wild ideas of her brethren. She is properly dressed and covered, receives excellent grades and very lady-like. And if I'm not mistaken, that's Spring in Paris she's wearing. I have no idea how she's come by it, but I'm impressed. It just further proof of her commitment to our ways."

At that, Hermione's mouth fell open and she dumbly gawked up at the Death Eater.

Lucius dark brow shot upward. "You don't think you deserve the compliments?"

"But … you're a …" Hermione stuttered, shocked.

"Death Eater?" Lucius finished for her, a smirk on his face. "Yes, that's very true. But it's not everyday one meets such an extraordinary young lady, either. I presume you'll leave all these Muggle gadgets behind, of course?"

"Leave them behind….?" Hermione's voice trailed off as alarms started going off in her head. What in the world was he _talking_ about? "I … I don't understand."

Lucius smirked. "Come, come, come, Miss Granger! I thought by now you'd have figured it out. You _do_ have the reputation of being the smartest witch of your age. Everyone says so."

"Well, I …" Hermione bit at her bottom lip nervously. That insane idea was in her head, screaming at her, but no, that was just stupid! She didn't even want to ponder the possibility…

/Because if I do and I'm wrong, then I'll be disappointed…/

But how could she be disappointed? She didn't even _know_ Draco really!

/But he _kissed_ me! He said he _loves_ me!./

Hermione scuffed at the thought mentally, knowing that boys could and would say anything. Just because they said it didn't mean they meant it. She couldn't allow herself to be turned into one of those airheads who swooned at the slightest smile from a cute boy. If she ever got that bad, then it was time to throw herself in front of a Muggle truck.

/Oh, you don't mean that!./

No, she didn't. But she didn't want to entertain the fantasy of marrying Draco either. And that's all it was, a fantasy. In fact, she didn't even know if she _wanted_ to marry him – or anyone. She had never seriously considered the possibility before as it was far away in the future. Yet time had slipped by and here _he_ was making vague hints!

"Look, why don't you stop beating around the bush and just _say_ whatever it is you're trying to say!" Hermione cried, frustrated. She glared at him with chocolate eyes, all the frustration going into the stare. "Because if you _don't_, I'll whop you over the head with my Mother's ugly vase, stuff your corpse in the broom closet between the vacuum and the sponge mop and _then_ go start on my summer homework! You've wasted almost the entire morning and I have an essay to write for Professor Snape and only three months to do it!"

Draco stared at her open-mouthed. In all his entire life he'd never witness anyone speak to his father that way!

A surprised expression appeared on the Death Eater's face but he quickly hid it. "Very well, if that is your desire. It actually is very simple. In our society, it is frowned upon for a man to spend any time alone, unsupervised, with an unmarried woman. It not only ruins her reputation but also opens the door for scandal. I simply cannot have that. Since the two of you have spent the night together and Draco has seen you in your … underclothing, there is only one suitable recourse."

"And that is?" She asked nervously. Her whole body felt hot and jumpy, as if she couldn't sit still. Part of her wanted to hear the answer and another part was scared of what it would be.

"Marriage, of course."

To be continued…

Author's Note: Since the Purebloods are living the 'old' way, they must follow the old rules of society as well. This was actually a common practice of the wealthy families that socialized in the Ton of Regency England, the Ton being polite society. I'm not sure if ALL of the Purebloods would follow this rule, but I also tried to give Lucius some reasons for accepting Hermione. I'm not an expert on the rules of the Regency period, but this did pop up in a few of the novels I read that was set in that time period so hopefully its accurate.

I also hope that adding this chapter to the story does NOT goof up the order of the other chapters (as had happened on my SW story yesterday due to the upgrade). So cross your fingers and hope for the best! By the way, I'm in the preplanning stages of another DMHG romance for when this story is finished.


	7. Marriage?

My Ferret 7

"Marriage, of course."

Hermione's mouth dropped open as shock rolled through her body. She felt like she had just run into a solid brick wall going at a fast pace, perhaps on a Nimbus 2000. Not that she rode brooms. No, she just didn't feel comfortable being way up there with only a thin piece of wood keeping her aloft and the ground so far away. Still, if she did ride them and hit something she was sure that it would feel something like this minus the pain. The fact that she had sort of guessed it had softened the blow somewhat but still…

/He expects me to marry Draco…/

The thought was circling in her mind, repeating itself. She liked Draco well enough and she thought he was handsome with those silvery eyes and the pale fringe of hair … but marry him? She didn't know him that well yet. Most of her reasons for liking him were based on observations. As of yet the two never even had a proper conversation. She knew very little about him when it came down to it: what his favorite foods were, his favorite book, where he lived or what his dreams for the future was. Oh, sure she knew he lived in Malfoy Manor; the entire school knew that. But where was the Manor? What part of England was it in or was it somewhere else all together? Students at Hogwarts came from all over the UK, not just England. In a way she supposed she should be thrilled to be marrying him. He was what almost every girl at school dreamed of with his wealth, good looks and charm. Yes, Draco could be very charming and even funny when he wasn't insulting someone!

/But I never even dated before…/

That was true enough. She had never gone on a real date with anyone and here she was getting married already! Hermione's lips pressed together tightly and her chocolate eyes narrowed. It just wasn't fair! Every young girl was supposed to look forward to going on dates and here it all had bypassed her! There would be no Hogsmeade weekends spent together, no evening walks, no gazing up at the stars while holding hands, no nothing! Who did he think he was demanding her to marry his son when they didn't even properly know each other yet?

/Stupid Death Eater!./

Just because he was a Death Eater and Governor of the school not to mention owning more money than Gringotts Bank didn't mean he could order her around like a slave! She wasn't one of his poor abused house elves! She was a human being with her own thoughts and feelings. At the moment those feelings were leaning towards Draco but she didn't know if she wanted to _marry_ him. Marriage was a big commitment; to devote your life to just one person. Why, she wasn't even sure what career she wanted yet so how could he expect her to marry? The bushy-haired Gryffindor focused her chocolate eyes on the Death Eater and glared at him boldly. "You can't be serious!"

"And why not, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked from where he stood in front of the sofa. He appeared very calm and had most likely expected the tirade of protest. "It's what honor demands. Unlike others, we still have honor and morals, something which I refuse to let slip into the gutter."

"Look, we didn't _do_ anything." Hermione tried pointing out once again, her frustration growing. Why was he so thickheaded? Couldn't he see they didn't know each other that well?

/Right. We just kissed in front of him is all!./

That certainly punched a substantial hole in her argument, not to mention Draco confessing his undying love for her! She felt her free hand tighten into a fist, the other still locked in an embrace with Draco, fingers intertwined. For someone who didn't know each other well they certainly were acting like a couple. She supposed their behavior made him suspicious, as if they were lying to him when they weren't.

"It matters little if you did anything or not." Lucius explained as he shifted his steel gray eyes from one teen to the other. "The rule simply states that if you're alone together for any amount of time than you must marry. It's what society expects."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "But that's so stupid!"

She thought about all the times she had been alone with Harry and Ron in the Common Room at Hogwarts, not to mention the sneaking around after hours. Arthur certainly wasn't demanding her to marry his son! A cold shudder passed through her at the awful thought of being forced to marry that Ronald and she silently vowed she'd choose Draco over the redhead any day! The pale-haired Slytherin was much nicer than her two friends, actually. Both Ron and Harry suffered from short tempers; something she'd never have to worry about with Draco. Nor did the blonde fight with his fists, so she'd never have to worry about him striking her. "Look, I've been alone in the Common Room many times with Ron and Harry…"

A smile crept across the Death Eater's face. "And you didn't notice the paintings watching? I beg to differ, Miss Granger, but you weren't _alone_ with them. Hogwarts is very well watched. Between the paintings and the ghosts almost every square inch of the school is observed."

Hermione sighed. Her logical approach wasn't working very well. Lucius was too stubborn and set in his ways, but perhaps she should just be thankful he wasn't trying to curse her. As it was, things weren't all that bad, were they? And she still had one good argument left; the best one in fact. "We're too young to get married. Surely you must agree with that, don't you? Perhaps if we were finished with school, but we're not; Seventh Year still remains."

"That may be true," Lucius replied with a smirk on his face, still one step ahead of her. "But you can become properly engaged."

000

/Engaged … to Granger?./

Draco had been so surprised by the statement that he had reverted to his old habit of calling Hermione by her surname. He had really thought that the Gryffindor would be able to talk her way out of it, to make his father see reason. But rules were rules and Draco now knew Lucius wouldn't budge for anything. That's just how he was.

Like Hermione, Draco had been surprised by the announcement that they were to be married. Of course, growing up a Malfoy he knew the proper codes of conduct, what could and couldn't be done. Still, he had thought since he had been turned into an animal certain rules would be wavered. Did it really count to see Hermione in her underclothes if he had been a ferret?

/Of course, my mind wasn't that of a ferret…/

If he were honest he would be forced to admit he had enjoyed looking at her, even if he had known it was wrong. He supposed he could have shut his eyes tightly and turned away, but he didn't want to get sat on, either. Hermione had been extremely busy with the dress and powder that she might have forgotten he was there. And it didn't matter in the end because whether he looked or not he still would have to marry her.

And he _did_ want to date her. Perhaps this whole marriage thing was a blessing in disguise? He knew most likely otherwise his father would _never_ allow him to date her. Nor would Lucius have ever seen Hermione dressed up like a Pureblood. His father perhaps had the mistaken idea that she dressed that way all the time when she wasn't at school but Draco knew the truth. She had just been practicing and really knew nothing about being feminine. And the lucky girl had just practiced at the right time, too. If it wasn't for this extremely lucky bit of timing, he'd probably end up with Pansy and that he could live without.

/But am I ready for marriage?./

Like Hermione had said, they were still awfully young to be considering such things. Growing up as a Malfoy, Draco knew that people had often gotten married at a much younger age way back when. The idea of getting married would frighten a lot of men as they saw it as some sort of trap and they loudly vowed that it would never happen to them. As the only heir, he had grown up knowing someday that he would get married. He just never thought it would be so soon! He had just recently turned old enough to socialize the way the adults did and now he'd miss it! True, he'd been a bit nervous about it all but then he was a Malfoy. He knew that he was the best catch of his decade and unlike the other boys at Hogwarts, dancing with a girl didn't frighten him. In fact he quite enjoyed it.

A slight frown creased his pointed face and he gazed up calmly at his father. Now that he knew he wasn't going to get punished for his rash actions, he felt more at ease. "Father, surely you're not going to make me miss the whole Season, are you? This was to be my first."

"Of course not, Draco." Lucius replied as his cool gray eyes once again studied the bushy-haired Gryffindor. "She'll just have to have a Season, too…"

000

/A season - now what in Merlin's name are they talking about?./

Hermione didn't have the slightest clue and it annoyed her as she was used to knowing everything. She worked hard memorizing things and learning as much as she could, often passing up free time in favor of reading thick tomes that weighed several pounds each. She and the Librarian had been on a first name basis since the first month of her First Year. Unlike others at the school she took her education seriously and was going to make something of herself. Although just what, well, she hadn't decided that yet. She did know what she _didn't_ want to do and that helped narrow the field somewhat.

"I do hope we can do something about that hair…" Lucius stated as he slowly stroked his chin with a black-gloved finger, deep in thought. He paused and seemed to realize what he was doing, quickly lowering the offending finger. His cool gray eyes stared into hers. "I _do_ presume you can dance?"

"Dance? Well, we had the Yule Ball Fourth Year…" Hermione automatically replied, her voice trailing off into silence. Why was he asking her that? Was he so eager to marry his only son off to the first female he could find that he already had the wedding planned, dancing included? Her eyes narrowed and she slowly rose to her feet, letting Draco's hand drop from her grasp. Lucius was still taller than she was and she was slightly nervous facing him as he was a Death Eater, but she had to do something. If she just sat there meekly he'd have her married within the week! Brashly staring into his cold gray eyes, she found the famous Gryffindor bravery and pulled it forward. If she didn't, she'd most likely never face him down one on one. "Don't tell me you have it all planned already, dancing included? I didn't even agree to it yet!"

Lucius smirked. "I wasn't speaking of dancing at a _wedding_, Miss Granger, but at the various balls and parties you will attend."

"Balls?" She asked, surprised. Now what was he talking about? She had never heard anything about balls or parties during the summer and her mind drew a complete blank.

000

Draco's heart skipped a beat when he realized that Hermione was rebelling against the idea of marrying him, although he could understand why. From what he knew of her and her reputation as a bookworm, she really had no experience with boys. And now with his father saying she was to be married, well, she was freaking. Not to mention the edge of hostility between the two. Hermione no doubt knew Lucius was a Death Eater and possibly still suspected some sort of attack. And if she did worm her way out of it somehow, why, then his father may very well expect him to marry Pansy.

/And that's the last thing I want…./

Sure, he may friend with Pansy at school but that didn't mean he loved her. And not once had she really shown concern for him with the whole Death Eater thing. Hermione had more compassion in her little toe than Pansy had in her entire body. And if he was given the choice between the two, he knew which he'd pick. And not only was Hermione breathtaking when she took the time to dress up, but she was smart as well. They were both intellectuals really and were well suited.

/Now if only I can make her see it that way…/

The thought surprised him and his silver-gray eyes widened in shock. Did he really want to marry Hermione? Still, he had to admire her bravery for trying to take his father on wandless, even if the confrontation was just words. But he knew the Gryffindor wasn't one for remaining silent. She stuck up for what she believed in very vocally at school, often letting the entire student body know. Nor did she care what others thought of her or so it seemed to him. Many had made remarks about her house elf thing – what had it been called? Yes, Hermione had a lot of spirit and that was to be admired.

/And she's going to be mine…/

The thought pleased him to no end and he relaxed on the sofa, enjoying the show of her glaring at his father. Of course, that didn't bother Lucius at all. It would take a lot more to get his old man upset that a harmless glare or even a few words. And that threat she had made earlier; Lucius had no doubt found it very amusing. When _he_ made threats, he made _real_ ones. Of course, one had to consider the fact that she was a Gryffindor and threats were not second nature to her, so one needed to make allowances. His mind momentarily turned to his fellow classmates and their shocked expressions when they discovered the truth.

/Oh yes, I'll definitely be looking forward to telling Potter and Weasley I'm engaged to their precious Hermione…/

Climbing to his feet, he reached out and gripped Hermione by the hand. "I'll explain it to her, Father."

Not waiting for a reply, Draco dragged her into the relative quite of the dining room doorway. His stride had been fast and long, causing her to trip in the unfamiliar shoes. But he caught her easily and steadied her on her feet, his strong arms going around her waist. The smallness of her house still amazed him and even more so now that he was a human again. To think that a few measly steps had already taken him across her entire living room to the dining room! His silvery gray eyes lingered a moment on a large black box in the corner and he frowned. Drat Muggle things were everywhere. Once they were relatively alone in the doorway, Draco smiled brilliantly at her with perfect white teeth. From practicing in front of a mirror, he knew the smile brightened his entire face and made him look very sweet.

/Girls fall for it all the time…/

000

And Hermione Granger, being a girl, was no different.

She was very aware of his arms around her waist, holding her tightly in his embrace. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she could feel heat rise up into her face. She still couldn't believe she had tripped like that and in her own house, too. Normally she wasn't a klutz at all but she just wasn't used to wearing these shoes and with Lucius spouting all that stuff about getting married, well, she just wasn't herself at the moment. His hands were splayed on her back and she could feel the warmth of his touch through the velvet of her dress, each hand sending pleasant warmth into her body. His arms formed a sort of cage and she was trapped within them. She knew she should step back and pull away lest she encouraged him in this marriage nonsense.

And it was nonsense, wasn't it?

/Are you a fool? This is _Draco Malfoy_ we're talking about! You'd be a fool to pass that up…/

But the truth was she was enjoying the sensation of being held in his arms all too much and she was loath to give it up just yet. Slowly she lifted her eyes upward and found him smiling brilliantly at her. He looked so handsome with his platinum blonde hair hanging in his silver eyes, like an angel. It was all too easy to see why the girls thought him attractive, but _she_ was the one in his arms, not them. And even despite her Muggle heritage, she could marry him if she so chose.

"Hermione, I suppose you think the Purebloods just vacation all summer or whatever your Muggles do, but that's not true." Draco said in his usual drawl. "We have the Season. It's when we socialize. I'm speaking of the upper class families, mind you, the wealthy ones that rule Wizarding society. Of course, it's not what it used to be in the grand old days but its still quite grand from what I've been told. One can't enter it officially until you're sixteen so this summer was to be my first."

"And what does this have to do with me?" She asked, still unsure. But a nervous tremble was in her gut making itself known and she feared she had already guessed the answer.

/Please don't say I'm going to be dragged into this society thing…./

The thought was unbearable.

"As my betrothed, you'll be expected to attend all the balls and parties, of course." Draco explained. "I expect it to be rather boring really…"

"And you just expect these people to _accept_ me?" Hermione asked, her chocolate eyes widening as realization sunk in. Many of the girls her own age would probably hate her for snatching Draco away and the older ones would look down at her in disgust for her Muggle heritage. It would be a real disaster! And then add in the fact she really knew nothing of clothes or hair…

/How am I ever going to handle this…./

The idea of rubbing elbows would all those rich pureblooded snobs, why; it was more than she could stand! And she knew nothing of their customs or things like that, either. What if she made a faux pas accidentally and they all laughed at her? And what would the conversation topics be? And if they were all Purebloods…

/The whole place may be filled with Voldemort's followers…/

Why, she might not even get out of there _alive_! It was very well known that she was one of Harry Potter's best friends and she was sure most of the people at the party would know that as well. Would they allow a Gryffindor into their midst?

/Oh, how did I ever get into this thing…./

"Of course, you'd be expected to host a ball as well…" Draco was saying.

Hermione's head snapped up at those words. She had been so busy contemplating the new situation that she really hadn't been paying attention to everything he had said. The nervousness in her stomach grew from a light tremble to a raging hurricane. "What? I thought I just heard you say that I'm expected to host a ball? I'm sure I misheard you."

Draco's silvery eyes flittered around her tiny Muggle house. "Well, obviously you can't host it _here_…"

"Draco, you can't be serious!" She exclaimed as her chocolate eyes took on a new larger size due to alarm. "I can't host a ball!"

Dread rolled through her at the thought of hosting a ball. Her parents were dentists and made a nice profit, but there were nowhere wealthy enough to host such a thing as a ball! Her hand flew to her mouth as she suddenly remembered her parents. How would she ever explain this mess to them? It had been hard enough with the Voldemort thing, but she had kind of skimmed over most of that. They knew there was some evil wizard about doing things, yes, but they didn't really grasp the entire situation clearly. They just saw the _nice_ part of magic, the wonder of Diagon Alley. And if the Malfoys were still here when her parents returned from shopping…

/They'll kill me…/

Her parents were easy-going and let her stay with the Weasleys most summers, but if they heard that a boy had been in her room. A grimace crossed her face at the thought. She really didn't think they even knew wizards could turn into animals. They'd be shocked, outraged and who knows what else? And Lucius looked so dignified they'd probably believe him! Worst, they could be coming home at any minute…

/I'll be grounded for sure…/

And that was a truly horrifying thought, as she'd _never_ been grounded in her life. She'd always been the perfectly behaved daughter her parents had dreamed of. If they believed the story that the Death Eater would be spouting, they'd feel betrayed and deeply hurt. She could imagine the hurt look in their eyes all too easily. The reason they let her go off to the Weasleys' during the summer was because they trusted her judgment one hundred percent and knew she would behave properly. They never worried as other parents of teen girls did. No, their daughter was a _bookworm_ and just wasn't interested in boys and as far as she knew, that was just fine with them. At least, neither had broached the subject of dating with her yet. And to have them come home to this…

Once again Hermione wished she could sink through the floor and just disappear so she could avoid the upcoming scene. It would be horrible, that much she knew.

/They'd never trust me again…/

"You'd be expected to." Draco drawled as he gazed at her. "When a girl enters polite society it's expected that she holds a Coming Out ball. And you're to have a female guardian attend all the parties with you, to act as your chaperone. It needn't be your mother. Any older female will do, preferably one already introduced to society."

"Oh, that's just great!" Hermione scoffed. "You know very well both of my parents are Muggles!"

"I'm sure Narcissa would be more than willing to be your chaperone." Lucius remarked from where he stood in the living room idly gazing at the assorted Muggle things that filled the room. "She enjoys socializing as you can imagine. And she'll take you shopping for all the gowns that you'll need."

Turning to look at the Death Eater, Hermione fingered the velvet of the skirt. "But I already have a dress…"

"My dear," Lucius smirked, amused by her Gryffindor way of thinking. "It'll be expected for you to have a different gown for each ball I'm afraid…"

"But that's so frivolous and wasteful!" Hermione exclaimed, outright shocked at the amount of money people would waste on clothes.

000

Draco grinned. It was obvious to him Hermione wasn't used to having _real_ money. But more importantly, he knew she didn't love him _because_ of his wealth. And that was vastly important to him. He watched her bottom jaw drop open as she gawked at his father in outright shock, no doubt thinking it was wasteful. The Gryffindor was so easy to read with all her feelings pasted on her face for all to see. Not a deceitful bone existed in her body. Of course, she could be tough when she needed to be and he admired her for that, too. Yet it was clear that the idea of attending all the social events was nerve-wracking to her.

/I need to reassure her it won't be all that bad…/

"Hermione, we'll have fun at the balls. Really." He smiled at her when she turned to face him again, an uncertain expression on her face. "It'll be like going out on dates sort of…"

"I really don't think my parents are going to accept all this…" She stated, worried as she nervously bit her bottom lip. "Maybe this was common two hundred years ago, but this is the Twentieth Century. Muggles just don't live this way anymore. I'm not sure they'll understand the reasons your father wants us to marry. They're more likely to get the wrong idea. I'm not even sure they know people can change into animals…"

The Slytherin teenager frowned. He had to admit he knew nothing about Muggles or how they'd react to such a thing. He knew that most Muggles didn't like witchcraft and feared it. Years ago they had burned witches or people they had thought to be witches. Who knew what they would do these days? Yet apparently Hermione's parents were OK with magic as they let her attend Hogwarts. Still, people were people, weren't they? Surely they'd be glad that their daughter had made such a fine match? Making a match was really what the Season was all about, after all. It allowed young people to meet each other under the watchful eyes of their elders and discover who suited who well. It broke his heart to see her worried over what should be a joyous occasion. Any pureblooded girl looked forward to her Coming Out ball and the upcoming season, yet Hermione was acting just the opposite. "I'm sure your parents will be happy that you made such a fine match…"

Reaching out, Draco lifted her chin so she could look at him. "Don't worry. Father will explain it to them when they get home."

"And that's what I'm worried about!" Hermione replied, apprehension clear in her eyes.

Just then the front door opened and her parents entered, their arms full of groceries. Their eyes landed on the Death Eater standing in their living room and they paused, surprise clear on their faces. Her father put his sacks down and stepped closer to the silver-haired man. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

To be continued…

Author's Note: Sorry I didn't get this up yesterday, but I was too sleepy to do this chapter justice.


	8. Parents

My Ferret 8

Just then the front door opened and her parents entered, their arms full of groceries. Their eyes landed on the Death Eater standing in their living room and they paused, surprise clear on their faces. Her father put his sacks down and stepped closer to the silver-haired man. "Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

A pleasant smile appeared on the Death Eater's face as he stepped towards Hermione's father, his head held high. Walking stick clutched in one hand, he politely offered the other gloved hand to the Muggle to shake. "Lucius Malfoy, School Governor. My son attends Hogwarts with your daughter."

"Oh! It's a pleasure to meet you." Mr. Granger said as he accepted the black-gloved hand and shook it, an uncertain smile on his face. His eyes flickered to the doorway and Hermione felt his questioning gaze focus on her. Intense heat rushed up into her face as she realized her parents were now staring at her, Draco's hand still on her chin. And he was standing so _close_, one hand still on her back in a partial embrace.

/Oh no…./

The idea of being caught so close to a boy in front of her parents was more than she could stand and she hastily leaped away from the blonde Slytherin. Her long dress tangled around her legs in her haste and she picked up the heavy velvet material to smooth it out. Once it was fixed, her chocolate eyes darted around the small living room. She was uncertain what she should do or where she should stand. Her eyes landed on the nearby TV and she made her way over to it, her heart pounded in her chest.

/Oooh, how did other girls do this?./

The thing is, she had no idea whatsoever. Did they just ask permission to start dating or did the parents bring it up first? Or was it a mix of the two situations? However it was normally handled, it had been skipped over in her house and now she was paying the price. She supposed she should just be grateful that they hadn't walked in while Draco had kissed her earlier. Logically, she knew she was old enough to start dating, but she just felt so awkward about the situation.

/And it's just going to get worst…/

As if reading her mind, Mr. Granger returned his attention to the silver-haired Death Eater. "Is there some problem?"

"A slight matter has been brought to my attention." Lucius said smoothly.

"What sort of matter?" Mrs. Granger asked as she set down her paper sacks of groceries and moved to stand beside her husband, a concerned look on her face. After exchanging glances with her husband, she returned her attention to the Death Eater. "This doesn't have anything to do with that person, does it?"

"Person?" Lucius asked, one dark brow rising in question.

"That evil wizard fellow…" Mr. Granger replied. "Hermione has told us a bit about that. Of course, some of it is hard to believe. I mean, people just don't come back from the dead…"

Lucius grinned, no doubt amused. "No, is has nothing to do with that. This is more of a personal matter. Did you notice per chance a white ferret yesterday? I understand your daughter had it when you picked her up at the train station."

A puzzled expression appeared on Mr. Granger's face. "Yes, so?"

"Well," Lucius said innocently as he glanced from one Muggle to the other. "I'm afraid that ferret was my son, Draco."

000

Draco gulped nervously as he saw his father motion with his arm for him to come forward. He had never actually met a real Muggle before and the thought still scared him a bit, old stories and legends flashing through his mind. He just didn't know what to expect. He wasn't stupid though. He knew any decent father should be furious at the thought of a boy being in his teenage daughters room overnight. And that was exactly where he had been, although it was not really his fault. He had been unable to tell anyone who he had really been nor could he get out of the room. Besides, that terrible ginger beast was loose in the house somewhere and like Hermione had pointed out to him, a cat might enjoy eating a ferret. But now he faced a much worst problem: her parents.

/Father will protect me though…./

That he was certain of.

Mr. Granger gawked at the two Malfoys, clearly surprised. "You … you were the ferret?"

Draco gulped silently, only the bump in his throat giving away his nervousness. He reminded himself that the man before him was just a Muggle and couldn't really do him anything; that there was no reason to be scared. The man did look a bit soft and was probably weak as well. Of course, Draco had no idea that dentists had strong arms for pulling bad teeth out of the gums. Even if the tissue around the tooth was cut, it wasn't an easy feet to pull the tooth out. Calling on his years of acting superior to the likes of Potter, Draco stood up straight and hid his fear. "Yes, Mr. Granger. Weasley turned me into a ferret on the train and Hermione took me home, thinking I was a real ferret."

"But…" Mr. Granger looked from one Malfoy to the other in confusion as he tried to grasp the idea that people could turn into animals. "But wasn't it in her room last night…"

"And that is why they need to be married." Lucius replied coolly.

"What? MARRIED?" Mr. Granger exclaimed loudly, shocked. His mouth hung open but he quickly closed it, his eyes narrowing. "You can't be serious! Hermione is only sixteen. She's far too young to get married!"

"Nether less, it is what honor demands." Lucius stated with head held high, his cold gray eyes watching the two Muggles before him. One hand rested on his son's shoulder, the black of his leather glove blending with the black school robe Draco wore. "Perhaps you think such an occurrence is insignificant, but _I_ do not. The Malfoys have held to these rules of conduct for hundreds of years and we're not going to change them now because you disagree. It is improper to leave two teenage children unsupervised, especially at their age. And in a bedroom no less…"

Mr. Granger frowned as his eyes darted from Draco to where his daughter stood. It was clear to Draco that the man was beginning to grasp what his father was suggesting and didn't care for it. His eyes darkened a shade and his face turned slightly reddish, the vein at the side of his neck standing out.

/Oh, Merlin! Now Father really made him angry!./

Draco backed up a step, uncertain if he wished to be close by when the Muggle lost his temper. His hand inched toward the wand that was still in his back pocket, his long slim fingers closing around the smooth wood. Silently he pulled it free and held it against his leg, the tip pointing at the floor.

"My daughter would never do anything improper, whether we're there to supervise or not!" Mr. Granger cried feeling insulted. "We raised her properly and we trust her judgment impeccably. And for you to suggest otherwise is insulting."

Mrs. Granger hurried across the room and wrapped her arms about Hermione's shoulders. "She's just sixteen and hasn't even dated yet! It's unfair to force her to marry anyone, even if that someone is your son!"

Lucius smirked and raised one dark brow. "And if they love each other?"

000

Hermione felt her face flush at the revealing words and hoped her parents wouldn't notice. But of course they did. It would be almost impossible for them not to notice it.

"Is that true, Hermione?" Her mother asked as she pulled back slightly, her arms still around her shoulders. "Do you love him?"

Nervously, Hermione nodded as she blushed furiously. But with any luck this whole thing would be over soon and then she could continue her life without the constant threat of embarrassment. Had her mother been this embarrassed years ago when she had first started dating? Or was it just her? How could she have enough guts to stick up for house elves and go against the entire school on that subject and yet find herself mute just because she likes a boy?

"Our little girl is growing up." Mrs. Granger commented with a smile. "But I still think she's far too young to get married."

"I would be satisfied with an engagement." Lucius stated from where he stood watching mother and daughter, his hand still on Draco's shoulder. "I assure you, this arrangement is in your daughter's best interest and as a Pureblood I do not make it likely. She would benefit greatly by marrying into the family and I believe she would fit in nicely, even if she has Muggle parents. The Season is coming up and she'll need to attend. That should satisfy your requirements for dating I do believe."

"Season?" Mrs. Granger asked, a puzzled look on her face.

"The Season consists of many balls and other social functions enjoyed by the wealthy Pureblood families of the Wizarding society."

"Balls?" Mr. Granger repeated dumbly as he gawked at Lucius. "Isn't that the sort of thing the Royal Family does?"

Lucius waved a black-gloved hand, a disgusted look on his face. "Muggles! _We_ have been holding the Season for hundreds of years. It's a time-honored tradition and people of impure blood do _not_ get invited. Still, I'm taking great risk on your daughter's account by inviting her. Honor must be met. The rules are very clear on that. Lesser families may bow out and make excuses due to her blood, but Malfoys do not act that way. We will uphold our end."

Mr. Granger was taken aback, confused by the wizard's words. He had never encountered a Britain before that spoke of the Royal Family in such a tone and not to mention those words about blood… "What do you mean by _impure blood_? Are you suggesting my daughter isn't good enough for your son? Because she gets perfect grades in that school of yours!"

"Yes, I'm very aware of that." Lucius admitted as he glanced down at Draco, a slight frown marring his face. "She beats Draco in every subject with the exception of riding a broom and that, I'm afraid, is nothing to brag of. Normally I'd never consider a Muggle-born to be a suitable wife for Draco. You must understand that our family has been wizards and witches for over a thousand years. The tradition is to marry other Purebloods. By marrying a Muggle-born we risk squibs being born into the family; children with no magic whatsoever. And that is a true horror for the Purebloods. Over the centuries the number of Pureblood families have been on the decline and today there are just a handful. We risk interbreeding too much but at the same time we do not want our ancient ways to be contaminated by Muggle ways of thinking. I think, perhaps, your daughter is the rare exception to that rule."

Hermione felt her parents gaze focus on her and they noted again what she was wearing.

"As you can see," Lucius continued. "She appreciates our way of life. My wife dresses in a similar fashion. To your Muggle ways of thinking, we live old-fashioned. The Season, of course, is part of that way of life. But if may not be easy for her to win over the other Purebloods. They would view her as an outsider. And that is what I meant by impure blood."

"Well, I still say she's too young to get married." Mr. Granger stated as he moved to stand beside his wife and daughter. "But I suppose it couldn't hurt to attend this Season of yours, _if_ she wants to. I'll not have you force her into anything. And then, later, if she _wants_ to marry your son she can."

"That seems reasonable." Lucius remarked.

Her father focused his attention on her. "Do you want to attend these balls with his son?"

Hermione imagined wearing a beautiful gown and flying across the floor in Draco's arms while soft music played. It would be like the Yule Ball from Fourth Year but only better. Yes, things may not go smoothly due to the other Purebloods but she couldn't let that stop her. A person never won anything by being a quitter. An opportunity had presented itself and she needed to hang on to it with both hands before it flew off to be lost forever.

"Of course I do, Dad!" Hermione exclaimed as she smiled happily at her father. "It would be a dream come true!"

Instead of having the usual summer worrying about Voldemort, she would have a summer of romance!

To be continued…

Author's Note: Sorry this is so short. I've been sick the last few days with a cold or I would have gotten this posted a lot sooner. I'll give you a much longer chapter next time to make up for the extreme shortness of this one. OK? And I'll try to post a new chapter tomorrow.


	9. Death Eater!

My Ferret 9

Instead of having the usual summer worrying about Voldemort, she would have a summer of romance!

"Very well." Lucius stated as he bowed his head slightly in the direction of Mr. And Mrs. Granger. "I shall inform my wife and start to make the arrangements to introduce your daughter to society. I do expect she shall be up for the challenge. It requires a lot of additional learning on her part."

/Additional learning…./

Hermione's brows pressed together in confusion as she pondered his statement and she began to open her mouth to ask him.

The Death Eater's cold steel-colored eyes focused on her; the look intent and strong enough to wilt a flower and a shiver ran down her spine. Being around Draco and his dreamy silver eyes often made her forget what a cold harsh man he had for a father. And whether she liked it or not, she would have to deal with Lucius. There was no way she could date Draco while forgetting his Death Eater father existed. It was just impossible. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly and finally settled into a frown.

"You will _not_ disappoint me if you know what's good for you, Miss Granger. I strongly suggest you listen with rapt attention to everything Narcissa teaches you." Lucius stared at her, his gaze unwavering. He blinked and then the fake smile appeared. Nodding in her direction, he turned on his heal and headed towards the door. "Come Draco. We're leaving."

"Yes, Father." Draco also nodded his head in their direction; always the perfect copycat of his father. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Hermione."

Heart pounding in her chest, she watched the two platinum blondes vanish through the front door and the door closing behind them with a soft click. The veiled threat Lucius had made had been received loud and clear, causing her heart to beat louder and faster. What had she been thinking, getting involved with the Malfoys? No matter how much she liked Draco was it really worth the risk that was involved? Lucius was a Death Eater! He was bold enough to make threats right in front of her parents and who knew what he might do later? Why, he could do _anything_. It was a sheer miracle he hadn't cursed her already. He certainly could have if he wished to. Her wand had been upstairs and with the No Magic law she couldn't really stop him anyway. The only thing that had truly held him back was the fact she had saved his son's life.

/What had I gotten myself into?./

She had been foolish to think she could save Draco from being a Death Eater. Lucius ruled with an iron fist and a tight noose-like grip. Draco was caught under it the day he was born and now _she_ was caught as well! And what was he blabbing about; learning things? What was there to learn? Surely Narcissa wasn't going to start teaching her Dark Magic? Her face paled at the thought and she lifted a hand to her already fast beating heart.

"Hermione,"

Her father's voice broke into her thoughts, startling her. She had been so busy concentrating on the Malfoys she had totally forgotten about her parents. Lifting her eyes, she saw both of them looking at her with concern on their faces.

"Hermione," Mr. Granger repeated as he placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Did that man just threaten you? I know that sounds a bit crazy, perhaps, but this whole situation just came out of the blue."

She paused in her reply, uncertain how much she should tell her parents. Should she tell them the truth; that the Malfoys were Dark Wizards? Normally she detested lying of any sort unless it was absolutely necessary. Well, perhaps a white lie was OK, like telling a sick person they looked all right as it hopefully cheered them up but this was complicated and totally different. Truthfully, she didn't know if Lucius meant what he said. What if he were lying to her? Was his huge concern of morality just an act? She was certain he had killed before, as he was a known Death Eater. And as a killer, why would he care if she had been alone all night with his son? It wasn't like Draco would be the one to suffer pregnancy if they _had_ done something, which they hadn't. So why make the big deal about some stupid rule? Hermione bit her bottom lip with worry, her mind clicking at a fast pace that could outpace owls in flight. This whole thing may be nothing but an elaborate ruse to catch her! They'd pretend there was a ball and she'd be all dressed up and step into a room of Death Eaters!

And that would be utterly horrible!

She would be putting the other Order members at risk and then Harry would have to risk his own neck to rescue her! And she knew that despite their argument on the train that he'd do just that. The Death Eaters would love to get their hands on Harry so they could give him to the Dark Lord! The plan could work very well. Yes, Lucius could very well take advantage of her feelings for Draco to plan such a dastardly deed! That is, presuming the whole thing was a lie…

/Yet Lucius seemed serious enough…./

Could he have been telling the truth and he really intended for her to marry his son? Did the Purebloods really live by such outdated rules? She knew Lucius certainly dressed old-fashioned whenever she saw him and even wore a black ribbon in his long locks of white hair. Many modern Muggles would laugh at him for that and try to say he was gay or perhaps a sissy, but she knew enough Muggle history to know it meant no such thing. It once was relatively fashionable for men to have long hair and tie it back with a ribbon. He also wore a long cloak; another dated item to the Muggle world. The trouble was he was a Slytherin and lying was second nature to them. With the exclusion of using the Truth Serum on him, which she didn't have, there was no sure way to tell if he was being sincere.

"Honey, are you all right?" her mother asked as she bent forward slightly to peer into Hermione's face. "I suppose this must be more shocking to you than to us. Imagine, the nerve of him demanding you to marry his son at sixteen! If I would have gotten proposed to at that age, why, I would have fainted!"

"I'm all right." Hermione replied as she made her way slowly to the sofa and sunk into the soft cushions. The scent of some men's cologne still lingered in the air, reminding her that the Malfoys had just been here. She really didn't know anything about various scents, although she suspected that her roommates would have been able to identify it or parts of it. Sometimes they giggled about a boy smelling musky or woodsy but those words really meant nothing to her. The word 'woods', for example, made her think of the Dark Forest filled with dappled sunlight, green leaves and small animals rustling in the underbrush. The wind would blow through the branches causing them to knock or creek against each other. The air was pure and sweet with a hint of the fresh earth underfoot and decaying leaves. She really doubted if a perfume company could capture that unique scent and bottle it, so what did they mean by woodsy? "It _is_ a shock, actually. I never dreamed this would happen…"

"But do you really like that boy?" Her father asked as he lowered himself to the sofa next to her, her mother sitting on her other side. "You can tell us the truth now as they're both gone. I realize we don't grasp everything about the Wizarding World, but even for them this sounds strange."

"Well, I _do_ like Draco…" Hermione admitted. Somehow it was easier to admit now that the truth was already out in the open and she only blushed slightly this time. "He can be very charming when he wants to be. Most of the girls in school like him actually. I've always thought they were real airheads but then I started to like him, too. He has the most incredible silvery eyes. I know that sounds foolish, maybe, but it's true. But Harry and Ron are always picking on him, beating him up for the most stupid things…"

"But I thought Harry and Ron are your friends." Her mother stated. "Why would they beat him up?"

"Because he's in Slytherin." Hermione replied sourly. "They're prejudice, really. The prejudice works both ways, you see. The Purebloods, like the Malfoys who you just met, are prejudice against Muggle-borns. They think that Hogwarts should be only for Purebloods. In return, the rest of the school is prejudice against the Slytherins. Most of the Purebloods are in Slytherin you see. There are a few Pureblood families, like the Weasleys, who don't believe what the other Purebloods do and they're looked down upon because of it. I used to think the Weasleys were nice people until I caught Ron dangling that ferret out the window. Of course, now I know it was really Draco…"

"And you stepped right into the middle of this mess?" Mr. Granger asked, frowning. "Honey, to be honest I don't like the sound of all this. Am I correct in assuming that the Malfoys are rich, because it certainly looks that way to me? People just don't carry silver-tipped walking sticks unless they're filthy rich and want to show off."

"I heard that Lucius Malfoy is the fifteenth richest man in the world…" Hermione's voice trailed off as the idea of that begun to sink in. Most women would have screamed with excitement about being engaged to his son, but the idea of all that money, it was hard to grasp. Her parents were, well, satisfied with what they had. Hermione supposed that even among Muggles that was extremely rare. Most people just wanted more and more and often attempted to live beyond their means. They wanted lavish clothes, a house full of expensive electronics, fancy cars, vacations homes, yachts and winter vacations to tropical places. But they were satisfied with a roof over their head, food on the table and the warm things that filled their home. They had a car for going where they needed to and money set-aside for the future. Their career as dentists kept their days busy and satisfied, doing what they loved and helping others care for their teeth. And for the life of her, Hermione couldn't possibly imagine what people could _do_ with all that money.

Her mother's eyes bulged out of her head. "Honey, are you _serious_? Is he really that rich and he wants you to marry his son?"

Mr. Granger looked startled for a moment and then shook his head, a sad expression in his warm eyes. "If they're really that wealthy, there'll be problems fitting in. That's the upper _upper class_ we're talking about, Hermione, the real snobby, swanky kind. Those people are almost royalty! They got their own strange rules. We're only middle-class. Trying to fit in, why, that would be like an owl living with a flock of swans…"

Hermione frowned slightly at her father's mention of rules. Lucius _had_ mentioned something of a code of conduct but she hadn't paid very much attention. Was _that_ what his threat had referred to? Was Narcissa to teach her a bunch of stupid rules? She shrugged it off, sure there couldn't really be all that much to learn anyway. How many rules could people have anyway?

/But if Lucius told the truth, there's that odd rule about not being alone in the room with a boy she was not related to…/

And should she tell her parents that Lucius was a Death Eater? If she did, would they forbid her to go to the balls and social gatherings? A part of her still wanted to go, even if it was risky and dangerous. She wanted to _prove_ to the Purebloods that she was just as good as they were. Hermione's mouth dropped open and her chocolate eyes widened at the startling thought. It was brilliant, bloody brilliant! This was the perfect chance to prove to them all that a Muggle-born was just as good as any Pureblood! Whatever they could do _she_ could do just as well! A broad smile crossed her lips and her whole face brightened., her skin practically glowing with excitement. She sat up slightly straighter on the sofa, the idea causing her eyes to sparkle and her blood to rush through the veins a tad faster. Perhaps this way she could really change society! It may work even better than the thing with the house elves. But then her joy deflated as she remembered the whole thing may be nothing but an elaborate ruse to catch her.

"Your father is right, Hermione." Her mother said as she held her hand. "This could only cause you heartache. Even if you do marry his son, it sounds as if the other Purebloods will never accept you. You may think now that such a thing doesn't matter, but in the long run it _will_ matter. The wealthy are expected to attend many social functions and you'll always be rubbing elbows with these people. If they're always excluding you from things, you won't be happy. You could tell yourself that you don't care, but you will care. You'll grow depressed and morose. I know you must be thinking of the glamour and romance these balls represent, but you need to look at it from a logical point of view as well. Any girl would be thrilled to be invited to a ball. It's like something out of Cinderella, isn't it?"

Hermione sighed. She knew her mother was right. It wouldn't be easy fitting in with the Purebloods. She knew that already, yet she was going to try her best and hope it was good enough for them. That really was all she could do, wasn't it? She had always wanted a chance to improve relations between Gryffindor and Slytherin. This looked like the perfect opportunity to do so. And hopefully she'll get to learn more about Draco in the process.

"Tell me, what else do you know about the Malfoys?" Mr. Granger asked as he adjusted how he sat on the sofa so he could look at her better. His eyes once again fell on the burgundy dress she wore, a slightly puzzled look on his face. "And why are you dressed like this anyway? I didn't know you had a dress like that…"

Blushing slightly as she glanced down at her velvet dress, Hermione hesitated. "Well, I … I was practicing…"

"Practicing?" Mr. Granger repeated. "Practicing what?"

"Well, trying to be a girl, you know…"

Her father stared at her blankly. "But honey, you _are_ a girl…"

"But I don't know _how_ to be a girl!" She cried red-faced. "I thought if I practiced during the summer than next fall I could catch Draco's attention and save him!"

Realizing what she had just said, she slapped a hand over her mouth. The truth was almost out in the open now and she couldn't retract it. Besides, she knew she shouldn't try to hide it from her parents. They had the right to know that the Malfoys were Dark Wizards. And if something happened to her and she hadn't told them, she'd feel extremely guilty.

Her parents exchanged glances and her father spoke up again. "Save him from what?"

"From being a Death Eater!" Hermione admitted bravely as she shifted her attention to her hands in her lap. At the moment she didn't have the courage to look her parents in the eyes. How could she tell them that she was in love with someone who came from a family of Dark Wizards? It was akin to falling for a petty criminal in the Muggle world, a drug dealer maybe. It just wasn't _done_. Nice girls weren't supposed to fall for bad boys and Draco most defiantly was a bad boy. He was arrogant, strutted around the school like he owned it and had a slightly dangerous air about himself. Still, girls just _loved_ it, of course. Maybe he didn't actually have a big flock following him around. Most of the girls weren't that brave but they admired him from afar and he knew it, of course. Still, she had sensed he wasn't really all that bad as he was pretending to be and thus she set out to save him.

"A Death Eater? But aren't those the people that follow You Know Who?" Her mother asked, a confused look on her face. "What does he have to do with them? He looked like a nice clean-cut boy to me, even if his father is very arrogant and thinks he can order you around…"

"Yes, what aren't you telling us?" Mr. Granger asked, a stern look appearing on his face.

"Well," Hermione said in an uncertain voice. "His father is a Death Eater…"

Her father's mouth dropped open in shock but he quickly closed it. His lips tightened into a firm line until the pink flesh turned slightly white around the edges and his eyes darkened. "Are you telling me that the man who was in my house was a Death Eater? He's a Death Eater and you didn't tell us until now? Hermione, what in the bloody heck are you thinking? The man could have _killed_ you! He could _still_ be planning on killing you! And you're dreaming of going dancing with his son?"

Hermione hung her head, ashamed. She knew without a doubt that now her parents _were_ disappointed with her. It was just by sheer luck she had gotten off the first time. And she couldn't really blame them, either. They had every right to be angry with her and that made it sting even more. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't just let it go. Closing her eyes, her head hanging down until her chin almost touched her chest, she felt her messy hair slip forward until it dangled against her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I can't help who I love…"

"Love!" Her father said angrily. "You're only sixteen! It's _infatuation_! You're too young to know what real love is and this rule they have, it's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard! I didn't want to start some fight until I knew all the facts and now I'm glad I held my temper. The man could have _murdered_ us for disagreeing with him! And you just let him into the house?"

"I didn't know who was at the door!" Hermione cried, hot tears leaking out from under her lashes. She could feel the wet tears leaking down her cheeks and dripping onto her folded hands. "And what was I supposed to do? Tell him he couldn't come in? He wouldn't _listen_ even if I had told him! And I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school! You know that. He's an adult wizard!"

"And you shouldn't be dressed like that!" Her father replied as he pushed himself up off the sofa and started to pace the small living room. "If you've been dressed in normal clothes he would have took his son and gone! It's obvious that thing you're wearing influenced his decision!"

"But I didn't _know_!" Hermione wailed as a fresh belt of tears came forth from her eyes. She felt her mother's arm go around her shoulders and she pressed her face against the warmth of her mother's chest. Within the last hour her emotions have been on a wild roller coaster as she had experienced shock after shock. It all had been too much and in a way the tears were a welcome release. Yet it was unfair for her father to accuse her of inviting the Death Eater into the house. Couldn't he see there had been nothing she could have done, that he could unlock the door with a single whispered word? But the locks still gave her father a sense of security.

"Look, she didn't know…" Her mother said.

"Do you think I _want_ our daughter married to some Dark Wizard?" Her father continued, his voice still upset and angry. She could hear his footfalls on the floor as he continued to pace. "What are we supposed to do? These people are just as bad as serial killers! Would you want our only child to marry one of those?"

"No…" Her mother whispered.

Hermione's throat burned and her eyes pinched from the salty tears as loud sobs escaped her mouth. She was making her mother's shirt all wet but that didn't matter at the moment. Her father's angry bellow echoed in her ears and she couldn't help but cringe at it. Although he had never struck her, the guilt of the situation ate at her. Maybe she had been wrong to secretly like Draco, but none of this situation was her fault! Turning her head slightly, she peered fearfully out at her father just in time to see him throw both arms up in the air.

"What are we supposed to do, huh?" He continued ranting as he paced. "It's just like out of the old fairytales with evil witches. They use poisons, kill people and maybe stuff children into ovens, too! If you never started attending that school, you'd never have got tangled up with these bad people!"

"There not _all_ bad!" Hermione protested from where she still sat with her head pressed against her mother.

"And didn't you just tell us last night Ron was dangling a ferret out the train window? Isn't he another one of these Purebloods?" Her father asked as he moved closer to the sofa, glaring down at her. "And if I remember correctly, your other _friend_, Harry, killed a teacher at the end of First Year."

"That was in self-defense!" Hermione exclaimed as she leaped off the sofa and stared her father in the eyes. "Professor Quirrel was possessed by Voldemort! He was living on the back of his head!"

"And Second Year you were petrified by something." He continued as he reached out and grabbed her wrist tightly. "I wanted to pull you out then but that Dumbledore convinced me not to. Why I ever let you continue to go to such a dangerous school is beyond me. But know I see I was right back then and now I'm regretting the fact I listened to that Headmaster of yours. That place is _filled_ with bad people! They've been influencing your behavior all these years and now you've involved with bloody _Death Eaters_ of all things! You've been changing for the worst and don't even realize it. Perhaps if you've been attending your regular school all these years this wouldn't have happened. Well, I forbid you to see this boy! He's not going to influence you more than he already is!"

"Draco isn't evil!" Hermione protested as she twisted her wrist and finally managed to pull it free of her father's grasp. Stepping sideways, she moved away from him. "You've always taught me that we should help people. Well, I want to help him. What's wrong with that? He's far more innocent than Harry or Ron! And if no one steps in and does something, he'll be _forced_ into being a Death Eater! But he's not cruel like they are. He doesn't have it in him to be a follower of Voldemort. And maybe no one else is willing to stick his or her neck out to save him, but _I_ am. Everyone is worth saving, even Draco Malfoy!"

Hermione dashed towards the stairs and paused, one hand on the wooden banister. Looking back at her parents with eyes red from crying, she stared at them. "You're the one that told me that, remember?"

With that said, she picked up her long skirt and escaped upstairs.

000

Outside Hermione's house, Draco nervously followed his father down the cement walk. This was the first time he had seen a Muggle neighborhood and his eyes curiously darted around. He had seen a bit last night as a ferret but it had been dark then and his mind had been on other things. Of course, his mind was on other things now as well. The Malfoy Carriage was parked out front hidden from Muggle eyes by a spell but he could see it just fine and another spell kept Muggles from trying to park their noisy motorcars in the same exact spot. A magical breed of horse called Nightmares pulled the carriage. These were far more expensive and rare than the Thestrals that pulled the school's carriages. For one, they were rumored to be demon horses straight from the Abyss, a reputation well deserved. To those magic folk who could see them, Nightmares were an awful sight. They had blood red eyes and a pair of long fangs growing from their mouths, fangs perfect for chomping on fresh meat. There were almost impossible for most mortals to control and the foolish person who attempted to ride one didn't live long – and that went for wizard and witch alike. The thing is, the rumors floating around the Wizarding World about the Malfoys' demon horses hit too close to the mark and if said wizards had only known it were _true_, well, they would have been a lot more frightened. Except for the odd eyes and pair of protruding fangs, the horses looked normal enough. They were India ink black with snowy white manes and tails. They were incredibly swift and tireless, able to cross great distances in incredibly short amounts of time. Some wizards claimed to see sparks of lightning shoot from the nightmares' hooves, as the hoof struck the pavement, but this, too, was rumor. Many suspected the Malfoys were Dark Wizards and the fact that they owned a stable full of nightmares seemed to prove it, yet no one was brave enough to actually _do_ anything about it. Eying the pair of nightmares with disinterest, Draco followed his father into the carriage with a lump forming in his throat. Now that they were alone, he was likely to get a speech or worst, punishment. So it was with great trepidation that he took his seat on the padded bench inside the carriage and closed the door.

His father sat on the backward facing seat, his back to the horses. This was the seat that tradition demanded men sit on, as the forward facing seat was reserved for women. A woman had the right to see where she was going as was only proper. But since it was just the two of them, Draco took the female's seat across from his father. He carefully schooled his face into a neutral position, hopefully hiding all the nervous feelings that were making themselves known in his stomach. Just because Lucius had seemed to accept the situation in Hermione's house didn't mean he had _really_ accepted it. He kept a watchful eye on his father's walking stick, just in case the elder wizard thought he deserved to get his knuckles slapped. But Lucius just had the long silver-headed stick lying across his legs, his black-gloved hands resting atop it. The longer his father stewed the worst it may be. The carriage started to move with a sudden jerk and Draco felt his back press against the wooden backing of the seat. The outside started to fly by at an incredible rate until it blurred into a wild mass of colors, the nightmares running at their normal cruising rate. A few white-hot sparks flew past the open window but the Pureblood teen made nothing of it as it was routine.

"Draco." Lucius finally stated in his usual low voice, his face also a mask.

"Yes, Father?" Draco replied, his voice calm. His stomach was a rioting mass of hornets or so it seemed. He knew he had erred seriously this time, yet he hoped for the best.

"I don't know how I'm going to explain this _mess_ to your mother." Lucius stated, his cold gray eyes drilling into the younger man. "At the moment she is more concerned for your safety. Just be grateful I outfitted you with a tracking device or you might have spent _years_ as a ferret. I strongly suggest you learn how to change back by yourself since this is the second time this has happened to you. I cannot be there every moment to change you back, Draco."

Draco frowned, nodding his head. "Yes, Father. But as you know, we haven't reached human transfigurations in school yet…"

"That is not my concern, Draco. The thing is, your classmate _has_." Lucius pointed out all too clearly.

The truth stung Draco painfully, reminding him how Weasley and Potter had once again got the better of him. To be outclassed on a broom by Potter was one thing, but beat by Weasley in spell work, now that really hurt. It was a disgrace and he had no excuse for it, either. Humiliation burned inside him as he once again remembered the sensation of shrinking down into the tiny animal and seeing his hands turn into fur-covered paws. And then to throw salt into his open wound, they had _laughed_ at him!

/But I'll get my revenge…./

A slight smirk crossed his lips as he thought of the shocked expressions on their worthless faces. Oh yes, they'd be shocked and outraged all right. But by then it'll be too late and Hermione would be his. They would make a big stink about it but by then her heart would belong to him. They had already distanced her by their vile act, their attempted murder. And that's exactly what it was. It was one thing to kill a ferret, but to kill a ferret that was really a classmate: that spelled Azkaban. All he needed to do was point it out to Hermione when he saw her next … if he saw her next. Truth be told, he wasn't still too sure where his father stood on this issue. He hoped he _could_ see her soon, hopefully at one of the upcoming social gatherings during the Season. Her parents had seemed to be OK with the matter, something that had relieved him greatly. They were, after all, just Muggles.

His mind turned back to being a ferret and he knew that his father was right. He needed to learn how to be an Animagus, to reverse the spell by himself. To do otherwise was foolish. His silver-gray eyes drifted down to the snakehead ring on his finger and he knew he had just been incredibly lucky. And those who relied on luck to save themselves on a regular basis more often than not ended up dead. He needed to take matters into his own hands. Raising his gaze, he met that of his father and nodded. "You're right, Father. I need to reverse it on my own. If I could have done that yesterday, I wouldn't be in this predicament."

"Draco, I have taught you Dark Magic to protect yourself. Why didn't you use it yesterday?" Lucius inquired, one dark brow rose in question. His lips were in a firm yet disapproving line, the corners just slightly down facing.

"They caught me unawares as I emerged from the bathroom." Draco hung his head, ashamed. His platinum-blonde bangs hung in his eyes and helped form a veil that blocked out his father's disapproving visage. "I have no excuse, Father. I … I had my wand in my back pocket and didn't expect an attack. I was washing my hands and just forgot to pull it out before emerging…"

"One must expect the unexpected, Draco." Lucius calmly stated. "You must keep your guard up at all times. Still, this situation may very well work in our favor…"

Surprise shot through the teenager and he quickly raised his head. He was uncertain if he should be glad or if he should be worried. There were several possible ways to interpret that sentence and he was unsure which his father had meant. One bode ill for Hermione that she could end up a utensil for Voldemort. Through her, they could get at Potter: a fact that Hermione had pointed out too clearly for his father. Not that he needed that pointed out. To a Death Eater it was all too obvious.

/I hope he won't hurt her…/

The last thing Draco wanted was for her to get hurt. She had saved his life and more importantly, she was actually concerned for his future. In his mind she deserved better than being a tool for some madman back from the grave. He still didn't exactly know why his father bowed and scraped to the thing. Rumor said that he didn't even look human anymore but possessed the scaled face of a snake with slits for nostrils. The image alone was enough to give him dry heaves and Draco quickly banished the sickening illustration from his mind. Now was not the time to get sick. He needed his wits about him in case his father brought up the issue with Hermione, which he was about to do. But the worry must have shown in his eyes for when Lucius spoke next it was on Hermione's future.

"The Ministry has suspected our family for some time of being Dark Wizards and your engagement to Miss Granger could prove quite helpful with that issue." Lucius said as he sat regally in the moving carriage, not a single strand of long hair out of place to the swiftness of their passage. "Still, you must surmise things will not go easy for her."

Draco's heart pounded in his chest and his palms grew wet. Unmindful of his actions, he wiped them on his school robe and earned himself a nasty glare from Lucius. Quickly stopping the dreadful behavior, Draco attempted to school his heart into submission. But it wasn't that easy. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she has much to learn, of course, and very little time to learn it." Lucius replied matter-of-factly. "Nor do we know how your mother will accept this startling news. She has been looking forward to a Pureblood daughter-in-law, you know. And instead we bring home an enforced engagement due to the Code of Conduct. Narcissa may very well be furious and refuse to help your betrothed. If that happens, she, quite frankly, doesn't stand a chance. Nor can I school her in what she needs to know."

Draco's heart dropped. "Oh."

He knew the Season revolved around etiquette, most of the things out-dated that a Muggle wouldn't know. And so what Lucius had said was true. Unless a Pureblood woman was willing to be Hermione's guardian during the entire summer, she wouldn't stand a chance. The other Purebloods would instantly dismiss her and that would make their marriage very difficult if not outright impossible.

Marriage…

/Am I really going to marry Hermione, a Gryffindor…./

The idea hadn't really sunk in yet. That is, it didn't feel _real_ yet. He thought he might enjoy being married to her but it was still strange in his mind, as he didn't really know what that meant. Oh, he knew she'd come live in the Manor with them and be his wife; they kiss and stuff. But Hermione's parents had been right: they really _were_ too young. Still, it would most likely be a very long engagement and then they could slowly get to know each other over the coarse of an entire school year. Would it be odd attending school while engaged? Would the Slytherins treat him different?

And then it hit him. The impact of the thought was like that day Second Year when he had fallen off his broom and crashed to the hard ground. He felt like all the air had got knocked out of him and he made a wheezing sound, his silvery gray eyes widening in understanding. This wasn't just going to affect Hermione; it was going to affect _him_ as well!

/How will the Purebloods react to this…/

If the news got out and it was bound to, it would be the lead gossip of the Season! And not only would he be engaged of at the unheard age of sixteen, but to a Gryffindor to boot!

/I could be ostracized…./

The thought was not reassuring. He had been looking forward to dancing at the Balls all summer and smiling sweetly at the various females. How would they react to such news? What if all the girls he approached turned him down? They could do so easily if they simply remarked they were sitting that particular dance out. Then they would fan themselves coyly and wait for the next dance to come – along with a different male, of course. There were rules in place to prevent such things, true, but if the female were shrewd enough they'd carry it off with enough innocence to spare. And as they were all Slytherins you knew they knew the tricks!

"Ah, I see the entirety of the situation has dawned on you." Lucius remarked from his side of the carriage. "But rest easy, Son. Scandal often leaves the male fully intact. The girls may be a bit depressed that you're engaged, but rest assured they'd dance with you all the same. In fact, you'll probably be more popular than ever. And many will hope to steal you away from the Muggle-born and will be convinced they can. It's how women's' minds work, Draco. Once someone claims you, the others will want you even more. As long as you're not actually married, that is."

Draco's eyes grew wide at this unknown news.

"Of course," Lucius remarked dryly as a very innocent expression appeared on his face. "This will all be moot if Miss Granger can't attain one of the much sought after passes to Almages…"

To be continued…

Author's Note: It's a day later than what I promised but here it is. I did a bit of research on the Regency era and hopefully it'll be accurate.

Muggles had Almacks. Wizards have Almages. It's a tad difficult to explain, but it's to do with the Season and if a girl wanted to attend the balls and other events, she needed a pass from Almacks. The pass sort of acted like a permission slip to enter High Society, I guess. From what I understand, Almacks also owned a building in London and many of the balls took place there (as well as in the homes of the various lords, etc). So I have created the Wizarding World equivalent. Needless to say, if Hermione can't obtain a pass she can't attend the balls, etc. She could, of course, still marry Draco, but would most likely be shunned by society, which the Malfoys are very active in. Needless to say, that wouldn't be good for Draco's future wife.

I'll try to get the next chapter up soon!


	10. Narcissa and Malfoy Manor

My Ferret 10

"Of course," Lucius remarked dryly as a very innocent expression appeared on his face. "This will all be moot if Miss Granger can't attain one of the much sought after passes to Almages…"

Draco sighed. That was true. He had forgotten all about the passes the girls needed if they wanted to attend the season. The great matrons kept strict control over them and he didn't see how Hermione was ever going to get one. The matrons were all Pureblood, of course. And rich. It would be a replay of Second Year when he had first started calling her Mudblood. His mother, presuming she would agree to help that is, would escort Hermione into the matrons' stuffy parlor where they would look her over. It wouldn't matter to them if she had spent hours fixing herself up or if she was far more pretty than Pansy. They would only look at her parentage, her blood. And when they discovered that she was a Muggle-born, they'd be horrified. A frown crossed his face at the thought of his distant relatives being disgusted at her very presence. They would probably make some horrid remark and he could imagine her fleeing the room, crying.

/Have I ever made her cry/

In the past it hadn't mattered, as he hadn't cared. But now Hermione was _his_ and he wasn't going to tolerate anyone interfering. The thought itself was shocking and he questioned where it had come from. Yes, she had saved his life and he owed her for that, but was he _really_ thinking of interfering with the matrons? That was sheer suicide. They were worst than his father or so he had heard. And although he acted tough at school, in truth he had no real power, no clout. By Merlin, he was a sixteen-year-old kid scared of his own shadow!

/I must be insane! Why else would I be thinking of sticking my neck out for her Hermione/

Did she really mean that much to him?

/Maybe I really do love her…/

He had told Hermione he loved her, but did he really know what love was? He thought her beautiful, that much was true. Her skin was smooth to the touch, soft and warm. And he could easily get lost gazing into those deep, soulful eyes. They were always alive with so many emotions unlike those of his fellow Slytherins. In the past when he had looked into Pansy's eyes he had met a wall and could see nothing of her true self. And what did that say but that she didn't truly trust him. Possibly it wasn't Pansy's fault. Her parents were Slytherins as well and Slytherins were not known for having warm, open relationships. And so staring into Hermione's big brown eyes had been very refreshing. He could actually _see_ her love for him in them sparkling like a thousand diamonds. Besides beauty, she had brains and her courage. He certainly admired those qualities as well. And the kissing, that had been great.

But what was love?

People often confused love and sex, thinking they were the same thing. Yet they weren't. Draco knew many people had sex with people who they didn't even know really; which was very stupid and dangerous. Yet they did it all the same heedless of disease and other threats. So was it possible that he really loved her? Because he certainly cared about her now, that much was clear. He hadn't been able to stand the thought of his father possibly harming her a short time ago and had even asked the older wizard not to, a risky act on his part.

/So maybe love is caring about someone…/

If that's what it was, then he _was_ in love with Hermione.

/And that wasn't the first time I stuck up for her…/

No, it wasn't. Hadn't he warned Harry and Ron to protect her that night at the Quidditch World Cup? Although he had tried to make it sound, well, _dangerous_ he had meant good. The Death Eaters were up to their old games and the last thing he wanted was to see Hermione floating upside-down in the air and held there by a spell. At the time he had told himself that it was all bragging. It really hadn't been much of a secret that his father was a Death Eater and at the time it seemed the perfect opportunity to rub it in Potter's face. But was that the real reason he had spoken up?

/Have I been in love with Hermione for years?./

The thought was staggering and Draco felt his stomach give a slight lurch. The nightmares were still galloping through the streets and scenery flew past the carriage windows, the colors blurring into various lines and indistinct shapes. Sounds came and went like ghosts or the signals from a fading Muggle radio station there one moment and gone the next.

/Is that why I'm always bugging Potter?./

Lifting a pale and perfectly manicured hand, the blonde Slytherin rubbed at his forehead lightly, and the frown on his face increasing a few degrees. He had thought he knew himself all these years. First Year he had attempted to befriend the famous Harry Potter and the boy had snubbed him. Surely _that_ was why he had been constantly bugging and insulting Scarhead? Besides, it was fun and gave him something else to do besides homework. Potter received all the attention and that annoyed him as well. The dark haired boy with glasses got away with far too much stuff that others would instantly be expelled for. It was no secret that Draco was jealous of the attention Harry received, although he wouldn't want Voldemort on his back. No way! Still, what if there was _another_ reason he kept hanging around Potter and starting spats?

/Was it just another excuse to see Hermione?./

As a Slytherin, he couldn't just walk up to her and start a conversation. Gryffindors were supposed to be the enemy and so it wouldn't be right to be seen talking to her. That alone would create all sorts of problems, the main one being she wouldn't give him the time of day. Well, that's what he used to think anyway. Besides, Potter and Weasley were her constant shadows just like Crabbe and Goyle were his. Neither was alone enough in a day to try it. And when he _did_ attempt to start a conversation with the Golden Trio one day during Care of Magical Creatures class the dolts had taken his witty remark the wrong way! They had gotten offended and had stalked off, Hermione rolling her eyes at him. So to save face, he had pretended to be a Dementor, pulling a hood over his head and waving his fingers at them. That had earned him a laugh or two, so he had been satisfied for the moment. The truth was, if he wanted to see Hermione he had to deal with Potter. And it was far easier to pretend he was fighting with Potter than to admit the truth to anyone, including himself.

Blinking his silvery eyes, Draco glanced up at his father. "Have I really been in love with her all those years?"

"Draco," Lucius sighed loudly as he gazed at his son. "You've been talking nonstop about the Mudblood since you arrived home after First Year. I'm not that blind or stupid, Draco. I know what it means when a boy is always chatting about a certain girl. Just be glad I have arranged this for you. One knows you'd never have been able to do it by yourself."

"You … you knew?" Draco's jaw dropped and his mouth hung open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Surely this couldn't be real? His father _hated_ Muggle-borns!

"Of course I knew." Lucius repeated as he leaned back against the padded carriage seat, his black-gloved hands folded neatly atop his walking stick. "Obviously, I would have preferred a Pureblood girl. I'll make no secret of that. But Miss Granger is an acceptable choice, grade wise. The fact that she's Harry Potter's friend is an added plus. I understand young Mr. Potter has the Minister's ear. Your betrothal to her should dispel that rumor floating about the Ministry that we're Dark Wizards as well, as I have stated before. I've been forced to sell many useful items in the past because of them snooping about. It's very annoying."

It all seemed too good to be true and Draco doubted his father's words. He wanted to believe them, to think that his father really meant what he said. Lucius had never lied to him in the past but this wasn't a normal situation. Potter was involved, although indirectly. The prediction Hermione had made still could come true. The Death Eaters could hold her prisoner to get Harry. And Harry would come, the fool and heroic Gryffindor he was.

/And it would be my fault…/

If anything happened to her, he'd never forgive himself. The idea alone was enough to make him sick and he could feel his stomach twist unpleasantly. Heart beating in his chest, he slowly studied his father's face for the truth. But Lucius' face was the perfect mask and showed no emotion. Too many times his father had been forced to act pleasant around people he strongly disliked because of politics and thus he had become an expert at hiding himself away behind the façade. It was also self-protection. People were less likely to pick on someone who was cool and aloof. It was the crybabies, like Neville, that made the best targets. But at times like these Draco wished his parents weren't so Slytherin. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Draco met his father's steady gaze and sought out any emotion to be found in his eyes. Lucius' eyes were so much like his own, the same shade of gray that women seemed to love. Yet if there was anything there, whether deceit or happiness, he didn't see it. Nervously, his mind filled with self-doubt, Draco wet his lips. "Father, are you _really_ going to let me marry Granger? Or is this just a rouse to catch Potter? Because if it is a rouse, it's not fair to her."

"Why Draco," Lucius remarked as a slight smile graced his lips and fatherly pride shone in his steel gray eyes. "You really _are_ growing up. Your mother will be quite pleased."

Draco's dark brows knitted together, his forehead becoming wrinkled. Mouth partly open, he gawked at Lucius in confusion. Somehow he had evidently pleased his father but how? He had just asked a simple question…

"You showed concern for your betrothed." Lucius explained, the faint smile still lingering on his face. "It's the first step to manhood. As a man, it is your duty to protect Miss Granger. That includes physical and non-physical dangers. And questioning my motives is an excellent start. But do not worry, Son. I have no intention of taking advantage of her relationship with Mr. Potter, no matter how tempting it may be. And in case you didn't notice, who ever was dumb enough to go up against him _lost_. I have no desire to be turned into a pile of ash by your bespectacled classmate. If the Dark Lord chooses that, well, it's his own business. And no, you may _not_ repeat that."

/Father thinks Harry is going to _win_?./

The news was outrageous. Truth be told, Draco really hadn't considered who might win the war very seriously yet. He just presumed the Dark Lord would squash Potter because he was older and more experienced. Yet what his father had just said made perfect sense. Harry _had_ beaten every opponent to date, including a nasty dragon. The dragon had done its best to kill the boy and had failed miserably. No one had really expected him to live through it, either…

Yet he had.

And so Lucius was looking ahead. If Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, it would be _very_ useful to have solid connections with the wining side and what could be better than a marriage into the Golden Trio? It very well may excuse him of all Death Eater activities and keep him out of Azkaban as well. It certainly wouldn't do for the Ministry to have Hermione Granger's father-in-law in _prison_. No, it would be an awful scandal! And like his father had just stated, Harry had the ear of the Minister if he wanted it or not. Draco had seen that for himself at the Quidditch World Cup when Fudge was so eager to greet Scarhead. At the time it had made his blood boil but now…

/This is starting to make more sense…/

Yes, his father was just being the usual scheming, far-seeing Slytherin who thought ten steps ahead of everyone else.

/Maybe he really _does_ want me to marry Hermione…/

The carriage paused as the black wrought iron gates outside of Malfoy Manor opened. When they were open all the way the trip continued, the gates closing behind them silently. It all was controlled by magic, of course. The grounds of Malfoy Manor were very secure and it was virtuously impossible for intruders to break onto the grounds. Still, one needed to be cautious. The carriage was pulled up the winding path that led between tall rows of stately pines and yews. Although it was just spring, the day was unusually warm and he could already smell the fresh yet sweet scent of the green pine needles. Finally they reached the circular drive before the Manor and the nightmares came to a stop. Within moments a house elf appeared and opened the carriage door, bowing low. Allowing his father to climb out first, Draco followed him a moment later. After being trapped in the confined area, it was nice to stretch his legs and Draco did so, the muscles loosening up. Although he was loath to admit it, the seats of the carriage were hard and sitting inside the wheeled vehicle for any length of time could be difficult. He had heard rumors from some classmates that Muggles now padded their Motorcars seats and even had leather interiors; yet he was unsure what to think of that. Still, on long trips he would be grateful for a little padding.

Straightening to his full height and throwing his shoulders back, Draco gazed up at his home. What would Hermione think of Malfoy Manor? The outside of her home had been covered in some unknown long white strips of Muggle invention. Its real purpose was unknown to him. Was it some sort of protection or was it just for looks? The bottom line is that her house had been very small and had no real glamour, no sense of history. The architecture was as simple as can be, little more than a square box. How anyone could stand living there was beyond him. The Manor, on the other hand, had style and history.

To many people, a Manor simply meant a big house but Draco knew it was much more than that. His silvery gray eyes fell on his home now and a feeling of pride swelled within him. He would be _proud_ to show Hermione his house someday. The first thing his eyes fell on was the huge porch and stairs that led up to the front door. The steps were made of a smooth dark gray stone that sparkled in the fading light, wide enough for a dozen adults to climb them side-by-side without crowding. They were lined on both sides by fine stone railings, these the same light brown as the house itself. The roofed porch, or portico as it was more commonly called, was dark arched openings supported by tall columns. Behind this rose the house itself made of large squared off blocks. Malfoy Manner was built in the Flemish Renaissance Revival style with the house being equal on both sides. Towering chimneys rose up from the bright red clay tiled roof. Elaborate molded frames surrounded the windows and rusticated masonry surrounded the front door, the deep grooves in the stone framing the door as one would a painting. Wrought iron decoration jutted up from the top of the house, giving it a slightly sinister look that suited the Malfoys quite well. The many windows reflected the sky, proclaiming the home was well cared for by a crew of loyal and hard working house elves. Dressed stones, called quoins, were located on the corners of the house. Pale cream, they were laid so their faces were alternately large and then small. And the upper windows even had their own tiny triangular roofs called pediments to keep the sun at bay or to protect from rain. It was all these little details that added up to create a stunning masterpiece that people actually lived inside of and Draco loved them all. Of course, the _inside_ was so much more spectacular.

With a glance to ascertain that the nightmares were being led around back to the stables by house elves, Draco followed his father up the stairs onto the portico. He would like to lie and say he was perfectly at ease, but he wasn't. Very soon he'd be facing his mother and telling her that he was now engaged to a Muggle-born. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to release his stress with the exhalation but it didn't work. Instead, he could feel Cornish Pixies starting a wild dance within his stomach and his palms grew wet again. His father opened the door and they entered the front hall. The front hall was as big as Hermione's bedroom and was simply used to hang one's cloaks. The floor was polished until it shone and made of the finest hardwood available. Curved black metal hooks lined both walls at shoulder height, serving both the Malfoys and any guests that might arrive. His mother's black cloak hung from one of the hooks and Draco stared at it for a moment. He could imagine her sitting in the lady's parlor and pretending to do her needlework. Not that Narcissa ever _touched_ the needle, of course. It was all done by spells, of course. But one needed to keep up appearances and fine needlework was something to be admired. It also helped diminish the Dark Wizard thing as well for what Dark Wizard would do needlework? And even though it was just a front hall, the room had ornate woodwork, beautifully carved by hand. The wood gleamed, dark and rich with not a single fingerprint to dull the fine surface.

The blonde Slytherin shook his head. So much of the things his family did were fake and there just to deceive others. Everyone suspected them for Dark Wizards because that's exactly what they were. How else could they own nightmares? Snapping out of his momentary reverie, he saw his father smoothly remove his cloak and neatly hang it on a hook. Lucius also removed his black leather gloves; now that he was home he needn't wear them anymore. He himself wasn't wearing a cloak. He still hadn't changed out of his school robes and he hoped he didn't smell ripe. He had worn them for a full day, a night and now he was going onto the second day. Frowning with disgust, he thought of the hot bath that awaited him upstairs in his private bathroom. He felt positively grimy and he didn't see how Granger could have kissed him at all. His breath must have reeked from not brushing his teeth last night after stealing her supper, a positively unheard of thing for him. Malfoys were _always_ neat and clean, no matter how many Muggles they might have tortured. Still, the poets said love was blind and he suppose it was nose-dead as well.

"Come, Draco." Lucius said as he strode forward into the next room. "Your mother will be worried about you."

"Yes, Father." Draco dutifully followed his father into their large living room. A red and gold Persian rug lay in the center of the room, a glistening golden chandelier hanging above. The chandelier had a basic round design and had twenty curving spokes reaching outward, each spoke holding a lit candle. The candles were tall and white, the best money could afford. More candelabra were placed around the room, some on end tables and others on the mantelpiece. The room had a warm glow and as they passed through it, Draco glanced at his reflection in one of the Manor's many mirrors. His platinum blonde hair appeared yellowish and limp. Worst, his face had a slightly greasy appearance and he vowed to go bathe as quickly as he could. The paintings on the wall followed his progress but he ignored them and idly wondered how they would react to the news he carried. The inhabitants of the paintings were just as snobbish as the old matrons Hermione would have to face.

Passing through a doorway, Draco entered the lady's parlor. This was the room where his mother entertained her guests and by looking at it, you'd never guess they were dark wizards. The room was one of the most beautiful in the entire house, the textured walls being a rich cream. Curved three-dimensional designs were built into the walls and then painted over for a look that screamed wealth. The four long windows were framed in rich red draperies, the blood red matching the upholstery of the twelve chairs that circled the walls of the room. The draperies were tied back with thick ties so the sun could enter the room. A fireplace stood on one end of the room, situated between two of the windows. An oblong mirror was directly above the fireplace and matched the other mirrors in the room. Candelabra framed the mirror on each side, the lit candles giving off a faint vanilla scent. All the furniture had the carved legs of antiques, the legs and frames of the chairs a stylish gold color. A rich red and gold Persian carpet lay in the center of the room, a small coffee table crossing it on an angle. The corners of the room held potted palms, their dark green fronds adding a hint of contrasting color. Two white plaster busts, each on its own side table, rested in the corners in front of the plants. They were of the current owners of the Manor: Lucius and Narcissa. Even the ceiling was decorated. Many of the rooms in the Manor had tin ceilings. Like the walls, they had three-dimensional designs built in. The design was centered in the middle of the ceiling and another golden chandelier hung from the center.

Narcissa sat on one of the chairs facing the doorway and her pale face brightened upon seeing him. She had the same whitish-blonde hair as her husband, the long wavy strands falling in wisps about her face. The majority of her long straight hair was piled neatly on top of her head in a sophisticated hairdo. She wore a dark green Empire dress that hung of her shoulders, the neckline a bit low and showing pale skin unblemished by the sun. The long sleeved dress pushed her bust up, the waist starting right under her bust line and falling smoothly to her ankles. A simple silver chain with an emerald pendant in the shape of a snake hung from her neck. She didn't sit in the direct sunlight, allowing the solid wall behind her to block most of it to preserve her skin. Yet the open curtains allowed her plenty of light to see her needlework, the needle moving up and back through the stretched cloth that hovered in the air by itself. Narcissa smoothly rose to her feet and rushed over to him, hugging him. "Draco, you're home! I was so worried about you."

"I'm sorry I worried you, Mother." Draco replied as he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being held by his mother. It wasn't often that she held him and he was determined to enjoy it, because most likely she'd be angry with him later. He could sense his father's presence off to one side, silently observing. Although the room was filled with the faint scent of vanilla, he could smell the familiar scent of Spring in Paris filling his nostrils. He had been right about the dusting powder and a feeling of satisfaction filled him momentarily, yet it was darkened by the knowledge that he would soon break his mother's heart. He wished he could put the news off. Just the thought of telling her filled him with a nervous dread. The Cornish Pixies were still in his stomach, except now there were more of them and they were holding a wild party that involved lots of spinning mid-air. Feeling slightly faint from the nausea, he swayed faintly on his feet. If it weren't for Narcissa's arms about him he may have fallen to the plush carpet.

"Draco, are you ill?" Narcissa asked, worried. Lifting a pale hand, she brushed his limp bangs aside and pressed it to his forehead. "Where were you anyway? We waited for you at the train station but you weren't on the train. I was _so_ worried and those aurors are incompetent! If it weren't for your father and that ring he had made up…"

"I'd still be a ferret." Draco admitted as he allowed his mother to lead him towards one of the plush red chairs. Sighing, he sat on the chair and wondered how he was going to tell her the awful truth? Well, not awful to him as he wanted to marry Hermione, but possibly awful to her.

/I don't want to loose Mother…/

Would she hate him once she knew? Or wouldn't it matter to her whom he married? Somehow that was hard to believe. Although he liked to think differently, Narcissa was just like the other Purebloods. They looked down on others of lesser blood, those of Muggle heritage. Before he had been just like them and he really hadn't seen anything wrong with that attitude. But this whole thing was an eye-opener. For the first time in his life he was seeing the world through two viewpoints almost. He had his own and now he had Hermione's as well in a way. Take Almages. As the son of Lucius and Narcissa, he was automatically accepted into society when he reached the correct age. It was a well-known fact he was pure of blood, had wealth and magic. But for Hermione it would be near impossible.

/Unless Mother helps her…/

"A ferret?" Narcissa said, her mouth partway open in surprise. "What in Merlin were you doing as a ferret?"

"Well, Weasley turned me into one." Draco admitted as he could feel the blush creep up into his face. It was extremely shameful at his age to admit Weasley of all people had bested him. The two families had a sort of long feud going on between them. They were like cats and dogs. "I … I let my guard down and he got me. Then the stupid git had me outside the train window, the _moving_ train mind you. I think he wanted to kill me…"

Pausing in his tale, Draco shifted his gaze up to his mother's face.

Narcissa had a look of pure horror on her face, one pale hand pressed to her heaving bosom. Her blue eyes were open wide, emotion clearly visible in the pool-like depths.

/Good. It's working…/

His only chance was to show how much they owed to Hermione, to rub in the fact that she had saved his life. Wizards held that in high regard usually. It was a thing that crossed boundaries between houses although some if not all Slytherins would loath owing a favor to a Gryffindor. Technically, only he owed Granger and his parents weren't bound by her heroic act at all. Still, he hoped the story would soften them up a bit to her plight. Making sure his face showed no trace of his sneaky plan, he continued the story. "And than Miss Granger showed up and rescued me. Of course, she thought I was a real ferret and took me home. That great oaf that teaches Care of Magical Creatures has ferrets and she just presumed that Weasley had stolen one of those. So I was by her house all night…"

Narcissa blinked, her hand slowly sinking off her bosom. "All night?"

"Yes, all night." Draco confirmed, his face growing hot. Now he understood how Hermione must have felt when her parents had come home. It was darn right embarrassing to actually admit he had spent the entire night in a girl's bedroom to his mother. Maybe a lot of guys would brag about that sort of thing among themselves and clap the lucky bloke on the shoulder or back, but this was his _mother_! He felt jumpy, his nerves on fire. Leaping off the chair, he started to nervously pace the room. His black patent leather shoes strode over the expensive carpet, his strides long and fast. "I spent the entire night in her bedroom, OK? I slept on her bed, next to the pillow! And in the morning she was prancing around in her underclothing. And well, I'm engaged!"

"You're … engaged?" Narcissa repeated in a flat voice, a shocked expression on her face. Lucius stepped forward and gently gripped his wife by her arm and led her to the nearest chair. Once she was seated, he stood next to her chair, a warm hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

"Yes, Mother, I'm engaged." Draco repeated red faced. "I didn't mean for it to happen but it has. And you might as well learn it now than later. Hermione is a Muggle-born but I'm sure you already know that."

"You mean she's that Mudblood you're always talking about?" she asked, the shocked look slowly leaving her face. A contemplative expression soon replaced it and for some reason it made him nervous.

"Yes, that's the one." Draco confirmed slightly uneasy. He had expected her to throw a fit by now but she wasn't doing that and he didn't know why. The fact was troubling and he unconsciously let his mouth drop open slightly, his brow wrinkling. "Why? Aren't you angry she's not a Pureblood?"

"Well, not all Purebloods are good, Draco. I thought you knew that." Narcissa stated coolly, her chin held up in the air. "You _do_, don't you?"

A dark brow shot upward. "No?"

"Look at that _dreadful_ Parkinson girl!" Narcissa said as she focused her eyes on her son, a serious expression on her face. "Did you know I once saw her wearing _make-up_! Muggle make-up! Can you believe that? And she was out in _public_ with it on her face! Her parents should be ashamed letting her parade around like a trollop! Her lips were actually _red_!"

Draco stood nervously on the Persian carpet, unsure what if anything he should say to that remark. He had seen Pansy wear make-up a few times at school as well and really hadn't thought about it. A lot of the older female students did. Make-up was a good example of the contamination that Muggle-borns brought with them when they joined the Purebloods at school.

"Tell me, Draco." Narcissa continued as she motioned for him to come closer. "This girl. Does she wear make-up?"

"No, Mother." Draco replied honestly. He hadn't ever really seen Hermione with make-up on, except for possibly for the Yule Ball in Fourth Year. But he truthfully couldn't remember if she had any on that night or not. It was too long ago. He only knew she never wore it at school. "She's a bookworm and isn't interested in that sort of thing. She beats me in all the classes I'm afraid…"

"She's the brightest witch of her age I've heard." Lucius added from where he stood beside her chair.

A sparkle appeared in Narcissa's blue eyes. "Really? And here I thought you'd be stuck with that Parkinson girl. She can't even wear her hair properly! Did you see how short she has it cut? Now tell me, Draco, does this girl of yours have short hair or long hair?"

Draco's mouth dropped open. "You only care about her _hair length_? What about all the Pureblood stuff?"

"Well, having pure blood doesn't mean much if you don't _act_ like one or _live_ like one, does it?" Narcissa remarked as she sat up straight on her chair. "When I was a girl I was taught how to properly behave. Obviously lots of the families are not enforcing those rules anymore on their daughters and you end up with people who are pure of blood but act like Muggle-borns. Their blood isn't worth much then, is it? They think acting arrogant is what it's all about and it's not. It's about _class_, but one needs to follow the rules."

"So … you're going to accept her?" He asked as a spark of hope came to life within him. This was more than he could hope for! It was fantastic! If only it would really work!

"Well, that depends." His mother coolly replied. "Is her hair long or short? Can it be put up in a proper hairdo? Because when hair is too short it simply can't be put up right."

"Well," Draco called forth of mental image of Hermione, brown fuzzy hair and all. "It's not really long or really short. It's kind of in the middle somewhere?"

"It's a horrid tangled bush." Lucius stated dryly. Pulling his wand free of his walking stick, he pointed it at an empty space in the room and caused an image of Hermione to appear as they had seen her last. The image was life-size but transparent like a ghost. It was also three-dimensional so one could walk around it and see her from different angles. Slowly Lucius walked a circle around the ghost-like Hermione, his face thoughtful. She still wore her burgundy dress. "As you can see, she appreciates our life-style and is attempting to fit in. It is a lot more than most Muggle-borns do."

Narcissa rose gracefully to her feet and joined her husband in circling the image, her sharp eyes studying it from different angles.

/I don't believe this…/

If that had been the _real_ Hermione, their behavior would have embarrassed him to no end! Still, if this was what it took to get them to help him…

Pursing her lips, Narcissa considered what she had learned from studying the image. "The dress is all wrong, of course. Not that the poor thing _knows_ that. At least it goes to the floor though. That shows she's trying to make an effort. And I think I could do something with her hair. We women _do_ have our spells. Once I get a proper corset on her…"

/Corset?./

Draco's pale face turned beet red. "Mother, please!"

"Oh, did I embarrass you?" Narcissa asked innocently. "You are engaged, are you not?"

"Yes, but it's going to be a _long_ engagement!" Draco made sure he stressed the proper word. He couldn't even believe his mother had said the word in front of him. "I'm not ready to hear of such things!"

Lifting a finger to her chin, Narcissa studied the image before her. "It's going to take a _lot_ of work to make a presentable Pureblood out of her. And I presume she'll be attending the Season?"

"If we can acquire a pass for her." Lucius stated. "Her parents have somewhat agreed, although they strongly dislike the idea of her marrying. They say she's too young."

Seeing his parents busy with the plan, Draco lifted his silver gray eyes to the tin ceiling and the hot bath he knew that waited upstairs. The house elves would have drawn it already and it would be waiting, the steaming water filled with his favorite scents. Then he'd sink in and relax. He felt grimier now than ever and he swore he could actually _feel_ the layer of grease and dirt on his skin. The curse of having such fair hair and skin was that he had to bathe so much, not that he minded. But if something came up like this unexpected incident than his hair got all weighed down and he felt miserable.

/Yet I must not have looked too bad this morning…/

It was clear Hermione thought he looked great and that lifted his spirits somewhat. But what he really needed was to soak and think. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to think up a way to get her that pass.

/Mother probably is way ahead of me on that…/

And as a male, he really didn't know much on the matrons anyway…

"Mother, Father. May I be excused?" Draco asked politely as he brought his eyes back down to his parents.

"Of course, Draco." Narcissa smiled at him, a twinkle in her blue eyes. "You run off and go write a love letter to your betrothed."

/A love letter?./

Sighing, Draco left the lady's parlor and headed up the grand staircase, the enchanted carved wooden animals inside the railing moving. There were unicorns, dragons, mermaids and centaurs. Normally he'd spare them a glance but his mind was occupied by a new problem.

/How in Merlin's name do I write a love letter?./

To be continued…

Author's Note: OK, there's another complete chapter. Yes, it was entirely Draco but I'll get to Hermione next chapter. Women in the Regency era did not wear make-up. Only prostitutes 'painted' their faces. The most common hairstyle of the era was to have wispy curls around the face and the rest of the long hair piled atop the head. The Manor I described is based on a real one in my city. In it's day is was the grandest of the manors and was owned by a wealthy business man. It was built in the late 1800s so it's more 'modern' than the Regency era, but I'd rather describe a real place I'm a bit familiar with than make one up. This way you get to see some of the grandeur the old manors had. They really are beautiful and like Draco thought in this chapter, it's all in the detail and not just the size. The furniture, tin ceilings, etc is as I described it. I'm not sure the proper name for the chairs in the lady's parlor. They are made of wood and have red padded cushions built into the seat and into the back. The legs are curved like on antiques. I'd rather base as much on fact as I can for realism…


End file.
